The pocket watch sat on the window ledge, balanced between a precarious drop and the most assured safety of my fingertips. It was my pocket watch, but ugly. What maker of watches would possibly have such a design flaw to their piece as to move counter-clockwise?
Curiosity is a driving force in my life, eternally damning me to a dwindling number of lives with high society. As a watchmaker, there are only so many pieces you're allowed to make which shock and astound prospective patrons. Tock tick is not one of them.
It was a chill night in the middle of Winter. My fur coat hung on the coat stand, snow melting in the heat of the lounge into small puddles on the wooden floor. The maid would no doubt swap up the damp, and I paid it little mind, for that night I was long in reading a curious book on time and its course through space....
· Fri Dec 13, 2013 @ 07:11pm · 0 Comments