Better Lift
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
I am below everything.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
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.
whats your name?
was it worth it
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
much more tactility
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
hiding from the rain