Time, at the moment, is unsettled.
It is 1914. Someday soon we will find ourselves standing outside the Winter Palace in St. Petersburg, frost forming on our mustachios or driving us to stow our fur-trimmed hands in buffs and wraps.
Our watches will read noon.
But in distant Vladivostok it will already be 6:46 in the evening.
In Kazan, some 1,400 miles away, it will be 1:15 in the afternoon.
In Kishinev, meanwhile, 1,600 miles to the south, the morning will not end for 16 minutes.
