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.

Today I felt like starting

"Put a blanket."

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

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

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

Thank you, Jack

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch