Recursive Patience

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2026-06-22 17:07:07 -

The commuter train from Westport to Grand Central made exactly four stops before the city asserted itself through the soot-streaked windows. Four stops was forty-two minutes. I had taken that train every weekday for seventeen years, and in that time I had learned that forty-two minutes was exactly the right amount of time to construct a universe. Not the one God built in seven days — I had no...

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