something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
it is hopeful
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
I am below everything.
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.
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.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.