hiding from the rain

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

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.

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
"Put a blanket."

It Will Get Lighter

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

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

its good

isaac newton

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

whats your name?

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

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

I Write Goodbye Letter