Fiction | December 01, 1999

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The Largest Room

It was March, sometime late in the afternoon on a Wednesday, and the spring wind blew gusts of rain theatrically against Mark Horton’s single, unopenable window, which gave only a wan light to his cramped and cluttered office, casting a gray veil over the computer, the stacks of paper, the empty bottles of water, the thin brown carpet of this very small room where he’d been working, programming, for an untold number of days in a row.

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