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

I am below everything.

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 Will Get Lighter

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

Can I see

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch


1

Better Lift

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

Style

no longer writing in the third person

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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.

Thank you, Jack