My watch runs fast. In spite of the jeweler telling me that it runs perfectly, I know that its hands spin around the dial when I’m not looking.
Time seemed to pass very slowly when I was a child. The week before we went to the circus seemed at least a month long.
When my grandmother complained about time going too fast, I thought she was a bit daft. I thought she was the best grandmother in the world, but a bit daft. I don’t anymore.
