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

Today I felt like starting

in a post. I want to be remembered

but i respect your search

Rain, starting

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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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'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

Can I see

no longer writing in the third person

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

really i want the internet

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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.