The Watchmaker

         The old shop seemed out of place, snuggled in between the latest trending fashion stores.  Throughout the years those spots had changed hands, names and what they sold, only god-who-knows how many times.  The only thing that had stayed the same over the years was the little, watch-repair shop located in that space between.

         The busy people hustling to-and-fro barely paid attention to the little shop.  Who could blame them, with so much to do, and so little time to do it, who even wore watches anymore?  If only they knew what they were missing every time they walked past the little, old shop that seemed so out of place.

         The owner of the shop sat in his chair, the leather on the armrests, cracked and worn out from the daily use, the seat cushion, perfectly forming to the old man’s buttocks.  He began tinkering with an old pocket watch.  Tinkering is what he did most these days, as fewer and fewer people brought watches in for repair, but he didn’t mind.  He loved to tinker, and he had all of the time in the world to do it.

         A little bell rang as a man in a fine tailored suit walked through the old shop’s door.   The bell’s ring was like music to the old man’s ears as it vibrated gently throughout the shop.  The old man looked up from his tinkering, his eyes peering above his glasses that were resting on the tip of his nose.

         “Why, hello there,” the old man said jovially.

         The man in the fine tailored suit didn’t respond to the old man, his eyes fixed upon his phone, consumed with what he was reading.

         The old man sat there quietly, allowing the businessman to attend to ‘seemingly’ more important matters when he noticed that the man in the fine tailored suit had a very unusual shadow.  The shadow was no more than half the man’s height and behaving rather peculiarly as if it were timidly peeking out from behind him.  This shadow was indeed very unusual, with blonde hair, pulled back into a ponytail, big blue eyes, and wearing a very pretty pink dress.

         “Ah…and who might you be?” the old man asked with a twinkle in his eye.

         The little girl peeked her head out just a little bit further from behind her father.  “Sa…Sally,” she said shyly.

         A friendly grin spread across the old man’s face, accentuating the wrinkles around his soft eyes.   “Why, hello Sally,” the old man said.  “It’s nice to make your acquaintance.”

         The kindness of the old man’s voice gave Sally the courage to step out completely from behind her father, who was still distracted by his phone, oblivious to anything going on around him.

         “Ah, now aren’t you a precious little thing,” the old man said. “And…why…what’s that?” the old man asked, as he reached behind the little girl’s ear and pulled out a single, red rose.  He held the rose out to the little girl, who in awe of the magical display, timidly accepted it.  She brought the rose up to her nose and gently took in the rose’s beautiful fragrance.

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