A scene from the movie Amelie, in which she suddenly takes a blind man by the arm and races him through the market, narrating to him everything he's been missing:
"The drum major's widow. She's worn his coat since the day he died. The horse's head has lost an ear. [Of a sculpture] That's the florist laughing. He has crinkly eyes. In the bakery window, lollipops. Smell that! They're giving out melon slices. Sugarplum ice cream! We're passing the park butcher. Ham 79 francs. Spareribs 45. Now the cheese shop. Picadors are 12.90. Cabecaus 23.50. A baby's watching a dog that's watching chickens. Now we're at the kiosk by the metro. I'll leave you here. Bye!"
I watched that beautiful scene the other night, and contemplated how often I race through my days--my WEEKs, and how I myself could stand to slow down for a little narration.