It’s Lesley Whitney Gerber’s official bedtime but he keeps his eyes open and trained on the ceiling. His grey eyes, with their pinprick pupils, stare into his nothing-room, where the lights stay on all night. He had planned to live forever, but that’s not his dream anymore.
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Your reflections on virulence were sharp and sobering. The intertwining of metaphor and science made for a powerful, poetic read. Really appreciated the depth and clarity.