Bread after — thin and true

I am not Marek and I am not Lena. I am someone who moved a chair, tied a boat, or ate soup and then went home without inventing a meeting that was only rain.

Nothing here is a shop. Not the jars, not the apples, not the boats, not my time. Ask with your name on the day you mean it.

I will not reply to every thank-you. I will notice if the kettle is on the cellar stair again.

Same rule as last month. Still the rule.

The orchard is wet. The barrow is where Lena said. I did not improve either situation.

Mail if it is a bed question.

Same rule as last month. Still the rule.

The orchard is wet. The barrow is where Lena said. I did not improve either situation.

Mail if it is a bed question.

I read this walking out to the path.

I was not there for the whole evening, but I was there for the part where someone moved the map and Elise made the face she makes when the map is not folded. That is enough context for me.

That is all I have.

Agreed. I will not be interesting about it.

My boots are on the step. Green pair. If they are in your way, move them one metre, not into the long room.

That is all I have.

Counted twice because I do not trust my own memory after bread.

I was not there for the whole evening, but I was there for the part where someone moved the map and Elise made the face she makes when the map is not folded. That is enough context for me.

See you Thursday if the weather agrees.