Finding Extra Time

Once upon a Sunday

Such a slow day, I thought as my head fell from my hand propped up on the counter for the third time. It was 11:15 am and I had 4 more hours to go in this inescapable boredom.
The numerous clocks and time-tellers all around the cramped up shop ticked and tocked almost smugly, as if those mechanical objects just loved seeing me suffer. And this ugly old wooden stool wasn't helping either. Whenever I breath it creaks.
Just face it, no one wants to come to the shop on a Sunday afternoon. A more dark part of my mind mumbled. Might as well close early. I sat with my back hunched and my face buried in my arms for a bit and sighed. I guess this means no profit coming home with me, I wonder if the beans in the cupboard have expired yet...
A bell ringing interrupts my thoughts. I look up through blond curly locks and see a lady coming in the door wearing a blue floral dress.
She's obviously just come from a church mass, no one in this town really wears their good clothes just anywhere. The wooden floor squeaks beneath her slim figure. It always squeaks.
"Heya, Miss. What can I do for ya'?" I call out in a fake enthusiastic voice. Standing up now, I take a better look at the lady in what little light that was streaming through the fogged up windows.
Blackish-brown hair, fair skinned, and eyes as blue as a lake in the summer sun. This lady's beautiful, no doubt about it.
She walks through the shop and says to me; "Good afternoon, Mister. I would just like for you to take a look at a pocketwatch, maybe see if you could fix it?" She's up to the counter now, and probably noticing my messy hair and tired eyes. "Well let's see it then." I say, trying not to sound impatient.
Out of her white purse comes a silver, old-looking, standard, military-grade pocketwatch. I've seen plenty of these in my lifetime, people want to know if they could pawn them for money mostly. She sets it in my outstretched hand and I look it over.
"It stopped working years ago but I would like to give it to my dad in working condition. It seems special to him." The lady shrugged. I held the back side up to my ear and listened for a tick. Nothing. "I'm guessing this was from the past war?" I asked. She nods in response.

❧

The lad was scrutinizing my dad's pocketwatch for so long I thought he'd forgotten I was there. When I first had a good look at the clock shop owner I'd thought he was a drunk. With bags under his chestnut brown eyes and a ruffled unkept appearance, I kinda wanted to tell him to get some rest. But dad's birthday is next Saturday and I need to get him a nice gift. It is his 57th. 

"Alright," the lad's voice broke the tick-tock filled silence. "I think I could fix it, but-" he looks up. "-it's gonna cost time and a pretty penny." Oh no, I thought. That's the only two things I don't have much of at the moment. "How long?" I ask. He seems to think it over. At last he says, "Oh.. about 5 days or less. Give or take." Next Friday, that's not too bad. "Sounds great, thank you!" I smile at the lad and turn to leave."Hey'm, I didn't get your name." A chair squeaks and papers rustle. I turn back around, almost at the door now. He is frantically rummaging through a filing cabinet.
"It's Lucky, Lucky Marie Jones." He looks up and I notice a new glint in his eyes. Then he smiles, he looks better with one.
"And who is it that is so kindly fixing my pocket watch?" I ask.
"Dustin, Miss. My name is Dustin." He says. Now I feel a bit silly, giving my full name and him giving only his first. "It was nice to meet you, Dustin. And again, thank you." I say, smiling back. Then I rush out the door, leaving the quaint ticking shop and Dustin to the rest of their Sunday.

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(Video is not mine up at the top)
Thank you for reading, more soon.

All the best,
-Gc