There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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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.
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.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
kind of mythopoesis
which magnetises chains of pins
sorry i am texting like a slav
have you read
no i haven't really read anything
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
but really the thing should be autonomous