I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
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.
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And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
But seriously, thank you, Jack
was it worth it
...
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?
Lift Analysis
hello reader,