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Not entirely sure how I feel about this novella which encompasses an epistolary correspondence between two rival time agents in a neverending war between two possible futures. Their methods of communication and time travel are never explained and come across as thoroughly hallucinatory. They read words in stars, in bones, in smoke, in seeds. They come and go between "strands" of time however they like through sheer force of will. It's all a bit much, especially when events start to loop back on themselves. But the sentiment is lovely.