One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
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.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
"Put a blanket."
Can I see
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
yes
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
autonomy of learning
its good