There are many clocks- Two of the best known are reading and writing.
Reading- is absolutely about time sprints and painful staggers- Nothing in this Universe is as good at speeding time to warp-speed than the climax of a good book, and nothing can slow it down as much as studying Shakespeare's sonnets in school.
Writing- well, that seems to be able to absorb years, especially if school succeeds in turning us into scribes. We can flash by intended publishing dates and wait eons for the variable cogs of the 'industry' to turn. Yet nothing can absorb a day so fast as the next 1000 words that need sorting before an insistent time-out.
Writing time has one particular type of place where it is variously blink gone-by, or numbingly slow, a place that almost defines the concept of time. There, time travels at infinitely variable speeds just arms lengths apart. That place being amongst the isolated desks of any 'examination in progress'.
We note that time is most variable when we are young- ensconced in those life moulding institutes of learning. Those time-machines run by reading, writing and arithmetic. The first two control time and the third makes us suffer by actually measuring the stuff.
Time has many relatives- and all of them are connected with words, joined together so emphatically in those schools of thought.
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