Dirt Road

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Transcript:

I talked to a young man with white hair on a boat cabin in the middle of a stormy sea. He forgot everything about himself except for the fact that his name rhymed with “time,” so he started calling himself Time.

I offered him an orange in exchange for a meaningful chat. He took the slice and told me, “Nothing’s set in stone, but they’re set in a dirt road. If you roll your wagon in the same path too much it’ll soon be the only path you can take without struggling.”