no longer writing in the third person

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

in a post. I want to be remembered

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

13, H, grate

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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Style