forty-five

Forty-five people have died making the crossing in 2024.

Forty-five of them have been discharged since then.

Forty-five years after “Alien” launched horror into space, little hasn’t been analyzed about its hissing xenomorphs, face-huggers or the lingering untrustworthiness of “synthetic persons.”

Forty-five minutes before he steps onto the court, Rafael Nadal must take a frigid shower.

What would have been ideal if he made that decision months—years?—ago, as opposed to now, when the election is happening in about forty-five seconds.