13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
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13, H, grate

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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

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

"Put a blanket."

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.

lol

isaac

sorry i am texting like a slav

send link

ahnaf abrar