kind of mythopoesis
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
It's
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.
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
hiding from the rain