There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc."Put a blanket."
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.I am below everything.
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
it is hopeful
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
but really the thing should be autonomous
Better Lift