Oscar walked into the clockshop with a few silver coins in hand. He was going to buy a new golden antique watch with synchronized ticking. The ticking of clocks was Oscar's favorite thing in the world. Between the thousands of hours that he had spent in his room, he had learned how to use the ticking to tell time without counting or looking at the clock more than once. He had learned when it was time to eat, time to feed his dog, Charlie, and when it was time to go to bed. The ticking had taught him everything he needed to know.
"Ello there, Oscar, mate!" the clocksmith exclaimed gleefully, "What you 'ere for, today?" Oscar simply placed his coins on the counter and pointed at the Leo's Antique Watch. "Ah, I understand," the clocksmith remarked. You see, here's the thing - Oscar doesn't really talk that much. He's a really big introvert, and he's kinda shy.
The clocksmith went to get the watch and Oscar sat down in one of the leather chairs that dotted the waiting room where you would wait to get a clock fixed if that's what you were there for. Oscar, being who he is, had come here for that purpose multiple times with different old clocks that were broken. One's ticking was off rhythm. Another's hands were mixed up. Yet another had a broken centerwheel, which was what made the hands rotate.
Whenever Oscar was waiting here, he simply looked at the old grandfather clock and watched its long, golden pendulum swing back and forth in rhythm with its ticking. Back, forth, back forth. Watching the clock really passed the time, no pun intended. The time was 8:02, the clock said. Then 8:03. Then 8:04. It took longer to get the watch than Oscar expected. He imagined that, being such a highly-priced antique watch, it must be in a higher-security place than all of the other clocks and watches in the back of the clockshop.
To Oscar's relief, at 8:05, the clocksmith emerged from the back of the shop into the main area with an antique case labeled, Leo's Antique Watch. "Ere ya go, mate," the clocksmith exclaimed, "You brou't just enough money, you did." Oscar nodded and whispered, "Thanks," before he waved goodbye. In the moments where Oscar had to talk, he just whispered.
Oscar walked outside and sat on the bench in front of the old, rusted sign that simply read, Hedgeville Clockshop. He opened up the antique case to find a Leo's Antique Watch, synchronized ticking and all.
YOU ARE READING
Tick Tock
Ficção GeralOscar Wright has always been an introvert, with only the steady ticking of the clocks keeping him company. With therapy doing no good to his low self-esteem and shy personality, he needs to find a way to stop his introvertedness - and it turns out...
