Saturday, 2 May 2015

The Flea Market Clock

The clock has a face the colour of buttermilk and the glass is coated in dust so thick I could write my name in it.

The stall is owned by an old lady.
She looks like a broom wearing a housecoat.

When I get home I wipe the dust from the face.

The clock had looked old when I saw it on the stall. Perhaps it had belonged to the old lady before all of the years had swept on by.

I flip it over and see that it has a battery compartment.

It’s more 1980s than 1890s.

Never mind.

There’s already a screw in the wall in just the right place – it’s if the wall has been waiting for this very clock for all of its life.

I hang it on the wall.

The clock keeps good time. 

Very good time indeed if you don’t mind things running in reverse.

When 1985 comes around again I decide enough is enough and take the battery out.


  1. Replies
    1. Thanks Susan. Got a feeling that I've missed a trick somewhere and that the story could be better. Still, it all helps to pass the time.

  2. I like how your writing includes math problems.

    1. Well, I try my best. I still haven't worked out the answer myself yet.

      Thanks for the grand comment Susan.



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