4 p.m. ... it's 4 p.m., and for all the problems we might have with time, it moves, not concerned with anything... and all the spiritual parasites wash away _ drowned in the brackish water. I will step out of the revolving door, in an hour, and it will leave me. My book... I'll read for a few minutes. And then I'll be home. Good night.
(Tomorrow will be different. It will look the same. But it will be mostly different. That's it.)