But seriously, thank you, Jack
in a post. I want to be remembered
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
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.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
no longer writing in the third person
your feed looks like my tumblr
so at the end
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
isaac newton