The clockmakers gift

The Watch Shop

Elena had never noticed the little shop on the corner of Wren and Alder. She passed it every day on her walk home from school, but somehow, it had always escaped her attention-until today. A sudden drizzle had her duck under the faded blue awning, and there, behind the dusty glass, she saw it: "T. Merrin – Horologist" carved into the wood in delicate, curling letters.

Inside, the shop smelled of cedar and machine oil. Clocks lined every wall-grandfather clocks, cuckoo clocks, even tiny pocket watches gently ticking in glass domes. At the center stood a man so old he seemed made of parchment and time itself.

"You're a bit early," he said, without turning around.

"I-sorry?" Elena blinked.

The man turned, his eyes a clear, cloudless blue. "You weren't supposed to find me yet. But I suppose the rain has its own ideas."

Elena hesitated at the door. "I didn't mean to- I was just trying to get out of the rain."

"All the best journeys begin with accidents," he said. "Come in. I believe you're here for a reason."

Tobias Merrin

Elena learned the old man was called Tobias Merrin, and he was the last in a long line of clockmakers. He spoke of time like it was an old friend, or maybe an old enemy-one he'd wrestled with and learned from.

"You fix clocks?" she asked.

"I listen to them," he replied. "And sometimes... I help them remember."