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He doesn’t yet have to hide from his father. To fold into himself again and again like an origami puzzle until he’s small enough to be overlooked.
come to believe that we live in loops rather than one straight line; that the air itself is made not only of molecules but of memory; that these loops form an invisible pattern; that past, present, and future are a part of this pattern; that our lives intersect for fractions of seconds that are years, centuries, millennia; that nothing ever vanishes.
A
