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Description
He always finds the strangest things in the cars he is directed to dispose of.
Lockets, earrings, porcelain birds, dusty bibles. I think the only gifts he ever gave me came from stranger's abandoned cars. It's amazing how many treasures were forgotten, left behind. It became his habit to show up when the sun had long past dropped behind the trees and silently hand me trinkets. He knew how much they fascinated me, wondering whose finger prints those were, what was their story, why did they leave it behind? I liked to imagine who the owner was.
That was when I believed in dreams, I was younger then.
It was from him that I got the pocket watch. Fourteen carot gold, and swiss made. The chain at first felt heavy, around my neck, as if I was carrying the weight of a secret. This feeling was the reason I wore the watch tucked into my shirt, only glitters of gold chain around my neck visible. The face presented smooth glass that protected thin hands that counted the hours, the minutes, and the seconds of time that had passed. The back was enameled with a fascinating and intricate design, containing swirls and symbols that I didn't recognize but somehow identified with. On closer examination I realized that the time was not passing at all, it was in fact, stuck. It would be 1:57 forever. Despite the lack of movement, the watch still faintly ticked, and once when I woke to the ticking beside my ear on my pillow, I thought that it sounded like a little heartbeat, as if a hummingbird were trapped inside.

And nowadays, I live in the seconds that do not move.

Description
He always finds the strangest things in the cars he is directed to dispose of.
Lockets, earrings, porcelain birds, dusty bibles. I think the only gifts he ever gave me came from stranger's abandoned cars. It's amazing how many treasures were forgotten, left behind. It became his habit to show up when the sun had long past dropped behind the trees and silently hand me trinkets. He knew how much they fascinated me, wondering whose finger prints those were, what was their story, why did they leave it behind? I liked to imagine who the owner was.
That was when I believed in dreams, I was younger then.
It was from him that I got the pocket watch. Fourteen carot gold, and swiss made. The chain at first felt heavy, around my neck, as if I was carrying the weight of a secret. This feeling was the reason I wore the watch tucked into my shirt, only glitters of gold chain around my neck visible. The face presented smooth glass that protected thin hands that counted the hours, the minutes, and the seconds of time that had passed. The back was enameled with a fascinating and intricate design, containing swirls and symbols that I didn't recognize but somehow identified with. On closer examination I realized that the time was not passing at all, it was in fact, stuck. It would be 1:57 forever. Despite the lack of movement, the watch still faintly ticked, and once when I woke to the ticking beside my ear on my pillow, I thought that it sounded like a little heartbeat, as if a hummingbird were trapped inside.

And nowadays, I live in the seconds that do not move.