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.

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.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

13, H, grate

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03