[Advertisement] Amidst the forward push of commuters on Platform One, fishing for mykis, tapping on screens, walks slowly a young woman of average height reading as she walks page 310 of ‘The Idiot’ by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Tickets, traffic, news, and March are all but incidentals to what happens next with the epileptic prince. Her compendious bag bumps against her dress. Does she find the Pevear and Volokhonsky translation effective? Are we doomed? Can we be redeemed? What’s foolish and wise? What does experience teach us? Where are we going? She is left to her thoughts as my train ordinarily departs.