"Put a blanket."

really i want the internet

sorry i am texting like a slav

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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.

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

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

you have a beautiful account btw

i dont understand magnetisation

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

brb i will read and reply sincerely

what do you mean

whats your name?

plato

but really the thing should be autonomous