this will be about a slug

...

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

wait what is that

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

the site i am dreaming

2 (actually index). two is company

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

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

Picture

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

. way too specific.

we can only engage in such a way

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

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

hello reader,

much more tactility

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.