But seriously, thank you, Jack
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
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.
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Can I see
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
like first name
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
plato
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
"Put a blanket."
was it worth it
bro i read nothing in my life