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"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
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.
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.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
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.
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.wait what is that
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
propensity within someone
currently
bro i read nothing in my life
the site i am dreaming
i really havent