Now is Not The Time

A version of this article was published some years ago in a magazine called the New English Review.

 

It has now vanished from the internet, so I am republishing it here:

 

Until the day I flew backwards across the International Date Line (IDL), I was clueless about time. When I say backwards, I mean that I went, in a very short and icy journey, from a late Monday morning in Providenya, Russia, straight into the previous Sunday afternoon in Nome, Alaska. I celebrated my crossing of the Berin...