like first name

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.

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

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

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

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

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

i see a website

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

"Put a blanket."

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

Lift Analysis

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

god being the centre magnet

it is hopeful

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

so at the end