READING AGAINST THE CLOCK
Oh
you have had your chance, It said;
Left it alone and it was one.
Who said a watched clock never moves?
Look at it now. Your chance wasI.
He turned and saw the accusing clock
Race like a torrent round a rock.’
Left it alone and it was one.
Who said a watched clock never moves?
Look at it now. Your chance was
He turned and saw the accusing clock
Race like a torrent round a rock.’
Slow Starter Louis McNeice
I have a couch, set beside the window, on this I lay and I read, sometimes listening to music, sometimes in silence. I am though a slow reader, constantly cogitating, pausing for thought as ideas in the text mingle with my own; sometimes just pausing to allow my mind to catch up with the words on the page.

I am also a passionate reader, though not in truth a voracious one. I am too restless, too engaged with the world and of course my own writing. This depresses me.

When I finally lie down to read and the words begin to pull me in, ever deeper, until that moment when the dancer and dance, reader and text merge and the strange whispering magic is given life. If I pause in just such a moment and glance up at the shelves I know that time is running out. There is now too much gold to prospect. I am reading against the clock.
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