Better Lift

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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 see a website

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.

it is hopeful

Rain, starting

plato

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

I Write Goodbye Letter

much more tactility

or never left

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

i have read not even 1 book

your feed looks like my tumblr