whats your name?
sorry i am texting like a slav
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
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 really havent
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
no longer writing in the third person
magnetises a pin
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
yeah