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

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

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, grate

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

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

Lift Analysis

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

Thank you for telling me that I'm failing to see how I'm reproducing the dynamics I'm trying to critique by only describing my Korean colleague / fresh meat and the black girl in relation to others and myself.