The Clock Maker

Posted: July 19, 2011 by writingsprint in postaday2011, postaweek2011, Writing
Tags: , ,

Charles’ fingertips held the clock more gingerly than he would have held a hummingbird by its wings. The wheels were balanced perfectly on mounts that were as thin as needles, and more fragile. One of them was barely out of alignment. Charles clenched a magnifier between his cheekbone and the edge of right his eye socket. If he did nothing else today, for the rest of the eight hours left until he caught the train home, he would click the stubborn wheel into place and the clock would run soundlessly and perfectly. His expressionless face hinted at a mind as calm as a lake at sunrise.

The Clockmaker

'The Clockmaker' by EndlessUnderscores

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