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| When I was among my Mesopotamian bees, I always thought about how things had changed. | ||||||||
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Jacob, standing at the open hive-top, as bees fill the air around his veil. He appears to be either in or out of thought. Neither here nor there. Not this, not that. Anyway, all around him, the air is there. And so he goes through this minute, or second, or tiny time without measure. |
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 09:55
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