The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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.

Better Lift

I am below everything.

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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

Better Lift

Can I see

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Style

in a post. I want to be remembered

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

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