We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.
But seriously, thank you, Jack, for telling me that I could submit this to a high-level literary magazine or creative nonfiction outlet with some minor tweaks. I don't think I will do that.
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?
yeah
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
currently
hiding from the rain
magnetisation/form
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
ion