The soft tick-tock of the antique pocket watch, even when nestled in his vest pocket, haunts me today. The last time I’d heard the ticking was an eon ago. At least it seemed that long, but it was more like a century ago when the watch was new.
Hearing it now, ticking softly in his pocket, brought back memories. I knew the old man couldn’t hear it. However, with my acute hearing, I could hear the blood pulsating through his veins, so the sound of the ticking watch was loud to me.
I considered waking the old man up, but instead, I gently slid my fingers into the vest pocket containing the watch. Once it was in my hands, I examined it. The fancy scrollwork on the case had held up well, considering the handling it had over the last hundred years.
Feeling the slight vibration of the mainspring rotating inside the watch, I closed my eyes, and I was back in France with him for a moment, but of course, he didn’t know I was there.
It was time I returned him to his rightful time and place. His impact on history diminished if gone too long, creating changes we couldn’t afford to happen. As I was about to wake him up, I sensed a presence in my mind.
“Please, can’t you just let him be?”
Turning around, I found her standing in the doorway. I knew what she wanted.
Approaching her, I held out the pocket watch. She looked at it. “It’s dying” As she spoke, I felt the mainspring start to slow down, and the ticking became less regular.
I nodded. “So is he. He needs to be where he can live.” Neither of us had said a word, but the thoughts bounced back and forth between us.
His time was fast running out. If I didn’t get him where he belonged, he would cease to exist.
“Can I go too?”
“You know the answer to that. You shouldn’t have brought him here. I have to return him as a young man to his proper time to do the work he must do during the war. If you’re there, even if only as a figment of his imagination, he’ll never completely throw himself into his work.”
She nodded and handed me the watch. I wound it and placed it back in his pocket. This time I gently shook his shoulder.
“Leon, It’s time to go home again.” He stood up and allowed me to guide him through the doorway where she had stood.
On the other side, we were back in France. I glanced at the newspaper a kid selling them on the street shoved in my face. It was 1939, and Leon was where he needed to be. As he walked into his bakery, I slipped back through the doorway and reappeared in my time. It wouldn’t be long before I would have to rescue another wayward time traveler.
Leon was a character from a Monthly Story Called Leon's Bread
Hearing it now, ticking softly in his pocket, brought back memories. I knew the old man couldn’t hear it. However, with my acute hearing, I could hear the blood pulsating through his veins, so the sound of the ticking watch was loud to me.
I considered waking the old man up, but instead, I gently slid my fingers into the vest pocket containing the watch. Once it was in my hands, I examined it. The fancy scrollwork on the case had held up well, considering the handling it had over the last hundred years.
Feeling the slight vibration of the mainspring rotating inside the watch, I closed my eyes, and I was back in France with him for a moment, but of course, he didn’t know I was there.
It was time I returned him to his rightful time and place. His impact on history diminished if gone too long, creating changes we couldn’t afford to happen. As I was about to wake him up, I sensed a presence in my mind.
“Please, can’t you just let him be?”
Turning around, I found her standing in the doorway. I knew what she wanted.
Approaching her, I held out the pocket watch. She looked at it. “It’s dying” As she spoke, I felt the mainspring start to slow down, and the ticking became less regular.
I nodded. “So is he. He needs to be where he can live.” Neither of us had said a word, but the thoughts bounced back and forth between us.
His time was fast running out. If I didn’t get him where he belonged, he would cease to exist.
“Can I go too?”
“You know the answer to that. You shouldn’t have brought him here. I have to return him as a young man to his proper time to do the work he must do during the war. If you’re there, even if only as a figment of his imagination, he’ll never completely throw himself into his work.”
She nodded and handed me the watch. I wound it and placed it back in his pocket. This time I gently shook his shoulder.
“Leon, It’s time to go home again.” He stood up and allowed me to guide him through the doorway where she had stood.
On the other side, we were back in France. I glanced at the newspaper a kid selling them on the street shoved in my face. It was 1939, and Leon was where he needed to be. As he walked into his bakery, I slipped back through the doorway and reappeared in my time. It wouldn’t be long before I would have to rescue another wayward time traveler.
Leon was a character from a Monthly Story Called Leon's Bread
