It Will Get Lighter

much more tactility

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

IWGD

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

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Rain, starting

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

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

It Will Get Lighter

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

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.

currently

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch