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.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
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.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Can I see
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13
you have a beautiful account btw
really i want the internet
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"