Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out."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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.it is hopeful
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.