" . . . one poor correspondent, . . . too, too hard to find . . . ."
Wednesday, September 18, 2024
The sixty four years long piece of string.
Half the width of the double helix, rungless and hard to measure, hangs all the way down into an abyss 64 years deep. It's red, frayed at the early end and faded, yet keeps half the entire record. It's the closest thing I'll ever get to identity.