so at the end

not so on: yvf(wthw)

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

have you read

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

Today I felt like starting

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Style

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

its good

like magnets

Slug

thank you

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

no like which do people call me

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

Picture

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.