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That click-click-click wasn't nostalgia. This story says it was a metronome, and the blank pegs were effigies you called "me." You spun for your job, your marriage, your kids—then carried the lesson into adulthood.
By Inspector StoryThat click-click-click wasn't nostalgia. This story says it was a metronome, and the blank pegs were effigies you called "me." You spun for your job, your marriage, your kids—then carried the lesson into adulthood.