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| >> Static Item >> Prose >> Experience >> ID #1465200 |
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I watch the clock too habitually. I intensely study passing time while I'm in it, wherever I'm at. It sometimes transpires as rich, full and swift yet as contained a song. Other times there is nothing but old tragedies in refrain. The clock as I lay there only staggers and lapses behind. I know passing time to never miss a beat as it resumes without me.
© Copyright 2008 Violet Branwen (UN: bsue3 at Writing.Com).
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