13       |
                |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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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.

1

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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