Seventy miles away, the digital readout on a videocassette recorder offered the time enthusiastically to an empty apartment in radiant blue characters: 4:28PM.

A curious detail, which the machine had of course no way of comprehending, was that the clock was two minutes fast, Milo having set it that way to compensate for the divergence in time between that understood to be correct in his own household and the various but consistent times adhered to by the broadcast stations fed into his television system through the cable hook-up.

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© 1991 David Cohen

channels and nothing's on.

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