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Nov. 10th, 2010 11:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
themidnightsonMARCH
Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of a second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches, and dragging lulls, but pass it does.
