That’s a good bit of writing sir. I think Lewis is rubbing off on you.
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“How does one get 25 hours out of a day?” Kuril, a Dallas native, asked himself.
“With gas prices soaring,” he thought further, “and the convenience of living by a Dallas Area Rapid Transit (DART) rail station, it would be wise to become a public transport patron.”
Something about the word patron made Kuril smirk. And in the midst of the mundane a most pleasant thought swam swiftly thought his mind. “It is a sort of luxury to read so much more than I would otherwise. In fact, I read the entire 30 minute commute each way. My 24 hour day just became 24+1.”
Awe fell upon him: there were no mornings here, no evenings, and no night — nothing but the changeless noon which had filled for centuries beyond history so many millions of cubic miles. 1
“DART is a far cry from a spherical spaceship racing towards Malacandra,” Kuril whispered outloud. “Nevertheless, I hop on the train and find myself there and many other places.”
[1] C. S. Lewis. Out of the Silent Planet. (NewYork: Scribner 2003), 31.