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.
hiding from the rain
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
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.
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
I am below everything.
no longer writing in the third person
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
bro i read nothing in my life
and the fake qualifier