creative writing

in my pocket (fiction)

The day after it stopped working, I began to take apart my watch. I loved to take apart watches and figure out how they worked. I liked to study why the watch had broken and if I could fix it with the spare parts in my pocket. After I took apart a watch, I always kept the pieces that were working and put them in my pocket. Currently, I had a few mismatched hour, minute, and seconds hands; two clock faces; 7 screws; and a few other parts stuffed into my two back pockets.

I think I started to take apart watches when I was little, maybe around seven. My dad was a watchmaker, and my favorite thing to do was to watch him work. For my sixth birthday, he gave me my first watch - he had built it himself. I loved it, and I wore it everyday. However, like all things, it eventually broke. When I came home from school that day, my dad and I took it apart. I still have all the pieces of the watch sitting on my dresser. It's my favorite watch, and I hoped someday that I could fix it, even after my dad moved on. There was only one part I had left to fix.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, focusing on the task at hand. I hoped with all my heart that this would be watch. Maybe this would be the watch that had the part I needed to fix my first watch. Quickly, I finished taking apart the watch, but I didn't find what I needed.

I looked at the pieces, hoping maybe I had just missed it. But nothing was there. I sadly took the pieces and put them in my pocket.

As I got ready for bed, I looked at my first watch and smiled. "One day, Dad. One day," I whispered.