There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
it is hopeful
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
Lift Analysis
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
Better Lift
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
Can I see