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.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

isaac

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

its good

have you read

ion

that looks like my instagram account

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

which magnetises chains of pins

feel you

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

but i respect your search

the site i am dreaming

we need to be deconstructing our identities

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

i really havent

send link

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

is this you as well

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

Thank you, Jack

i love it here

We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

its good