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nnyIt’s always the cliché, so she’s heard, but in the unseen parts of the morning time never flies. Time shackles weights around you, from the base to the tip, every second dragging like rust until it finally agrees to move forward with a world-shaking tick. There’s nothing quite like loving someone, seeing their reflection in the shapes around you, in every reminder of the last time you met. No other time is quite like this, though, this moment in the dark and unseen times; before Minute meets Hour at the 6 and bells ring, everything shaking itself awake around them.
