A grandfather clock's pendulum swings continuously. Right to left, left to right, click… clock… click… clock. Unwavering just the same is a certain clock in a quaint shoebox of a shop. Dimly lit books were always swallowing up all gaps. The clock seemed to exude an air of pretentious superiority over the crowded and aged interior. Click… clock… click… cloc- ding, ting, ding, ting-a-ling, the brass bell sang as the door swung open letting in a cool autumn breeze. The source of the noise did not seem to phase the clock nor the scrawny shop boy who blended quite well with the lethargic room. Adjusting his glasses ever so slightly he sighed and kept his focus on the newspaper in front of him.
“Hey Neil, are you seriously going to ignore me like that?!” her deep brown curls seemed to bounce as her words shattered the quiet room. His eyes seemed to widen and his tiny frame seemed shaken. His feet had been rating right up on the desk and he rushed to fix his posture. Click… clock… click… clock, the pendulum kept swinging. In his frazzled state, he fell from the chair quickly picking it up and turning red with embarrassment. Eventually, he managed to readjust himself but not without getting his straw blond hair tugged by an opening in the desk.
“I guess I didn’t notice you coming in, I thought you’d be out for much longer”. Trying to hold back a laugh at his state the girl smiled playfully before switching to a more stern face. She took a step towards the desk and rolled up the newspaper before pointing it at the clerk.
“Are you saying you wish I had not returned?”. Neil looked startled once again
“Of course not i’m quite happy to see you, I mean even if you were here all the time… I mean I just thought it would take longer… not that I wanted….” In the short silence the Cliiick… clock… cliiick… clock carried on. As Neil continued to trail off hoping to find the right words the girl was yanked back by a youth with a stiff expression and ash-colored hair.
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
“Watching you two interact is painful and sad. Can we get this over with?”. Slipping out of his grip in an instant the girl crossed her arms and furrowed her eyebrows baring deep into his.
“Whatever. Quite honestly if it weren’t for you I would be keeping the bookstore company every day. Neil may be able to relax and put his feet up in peace but regrettably, I cannot say the same.
My unfortunate fate is interacting with you and your absolute lack of social skills.” The boy's hooded mahogany eyes twitched with annoyance at her for a split second before returning to a level state.
Hardly affected by the comments he indifferently replied, “Why would I need social skills when the only person who actually knows me well enough to care is you.” With that he took the newspaper from the girl and tossed it back to Neil before reaching under the counter to produce a key.
Neil started, “Um you know that is part of my job so if you need any help…” Paying him no mind, the two visitors made their way up to the clock, CLIICK… CLOCK… CLIICK… CLOCK the clock seemed swayed steadily louder.
With all eyes on it, the clock's grandiose was on full display. The warm chestnut brown wood seemed to shame the cloudy marked-up floor. The carefully carved base and bonnet put even the finest clocks to shame. Of course, its brass feature shone like sun in the ill-lit room and the pendulum proudly swayed back and forth. CLIICK… CLOCK… CLIICK… CLOoo… with a swift movement, the boy turned the key in the key lock door the clock froze and the confident pendulum fell flat. A single cleeck was heard from behind and the clock had now become just an entrance into a deep hallway. Passing the key to Neil the boy looked back at his begrudging accomplice who was already mourning the loss of her shop clerk dreams once again.
“Should I take him along instead?” He pointed sharply at Neil who flinched and looked worriedly between the two.
“Leave him be, he could pass out just from your presence” she huffed and quickly followed, smiling and waving to Neil before the clock door clanked back into place. The scrawny boy relaxed himself once again, the pendulum started its swing, and the clock, hiding whatever lay behind it, began its march once again Click… clock… click… clock Click… clock… click… clock.