no longer writing in the third person
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Thank you, Jack
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
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i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
much more tactility
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.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
isaac
"Put a blanket."
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
so at the end
wait what is that