Better Lift

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

Rain, starting

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

in a post. I want to be remembered

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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.

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

its good

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

idk

much more tactility