Timepiece

A eulogy for a rather well-traveled Swiss watch.

    Its gears ticked away in the housing that had protected it over so many years.  So many hours of perfection taken for granted.  Each movement evenly spaced between the one preceding it and the motion directly following.  Every fragile piece useless without its brothers, a mere bit of scrap.  All of them working in perfect harmony to keep impeccable time.  All of them becoming one instead of many.
    It remembered more than most could ever know; it remembered the first meeting of the tiny family living within its protective shell.  They remembered coming together on a table in Switzerland.  Ancient, deft, and nimble hands providing the means by which they were joined as a family. 
    It remembered crossing the ocean, staring out over the vast expanse of water.  Its owner taking for granted the value of this little bit of precision excellence.  When its owner fell on hard times, it was sold for a mere fifteen dollars.  It remembered collecting dust in some east coast pawn shop, letting years pass in neglected hibernation.  When finally the time came for it to be awakened, it expressed its joy the same way it always did, by continuing to keep perfect time. 
    It remembered every time it was wound, every time it ran out.  It remembered every time it changed hands.  When it was owned by an upper middle-class office drone.  When it was owned by a spoiled high school student.  It remembered that student trading it for some cheap piece of American hardware.  It was offended at this, yet still it watched.
    It remembered being stolen and sold to sit in another pawn shop.  This time, however, it did not have to wait long before being snatched up by some new owner.  This man seemed to view himself as important.  Later, it would find out that this man had a hand in government.  It watched as he clawed his way up the chain, stepping on people like so many rungs of a ladder taken for granted.  It remembered meeting important people.  It remembered shaking hands with politicians and celebrities.  It knew more about politics than most people in this new country ever knew.
    It remembered going to formal occasions; dinners, dances, charity auctions.  It remembered every time it saw itself in a mirror, its owner examining the interplay between it and the owners cufflinks.  It remembered how much it loved looking at itself every time.  Its beautiful gold band with the line of silver running around it.  The intricate hands constantly tracing a path that ran around its perfect face.  It loved the diamond studs that served as markings to the hours.  It gloated every time an owner would change their cufflinks in order to match it.  It spent many an hour in self-loathing after every time the owner would change his watch to match the cufflinks.
    It remembered when it became obsolete, replaced by the new, cold, unfeeling, lifeless “digital” units.  It was offended at this as well.  But, there were those who still appreciated its charm, its character, its feelings.  They cared for it.
    It remembered when one of the pieces it was supposed to be protecting and nurturing died.  It remembered the sadness it felt when it ceased to be what it once was, perfect.  It remembered the joy upon meeting a new piece of itself, the persistence of flawlessness, becoming whole again.

~~~

    It remembered all of this and more as it gazed again out over a body of water.  It watched its owner silently contemplate his existence.  It watched its owner’s face, tears welling up in his eyes.  This had happened before, but this time its owner didn’t bother trying to hide them. 
    It knew something was wrong when it watched him write a note the evening before, articulate and precise in its composition.  It watched as its owner removed his expensive jacket and his expensive ring and his expensive tie and his expensive wallet with its furnishings.  These he set on a desk next to the note.  It remembered how the owner looked at it, almost removing it, but in the end, deciding against it.  Then he looked about the room for the last time before leaving to meet his fate.
    It watched as the owner climbed over the railing and step lightly over the edge.  It watched the gray water rushing up to greet it and its owner.  It watched its owner drown, cease living, die.  It contemplated the entirety of its existence, up to this very moment in its long life.  It was confused.  It didn’t know whether to feel hurt or to feel touched that its owner would bring it with.  For the first time in its being, it did not feel the sense of superiority it had been so used to.  If it could, it too would have shed tears upon its end.  It contemplated all these things until it was invaded by the liquid that was its bane.  It contemplated until its function ceased, until it could watch and remember no more.  Then, it died.
 

Reviews

[Eric Kaun]

I did like this story a lot. For what it is, it is very good, but I believe something should be done with the idea. Maybe if you wanted to you could take all of the events in the story and flesh them out. As many of my teachers have told me, Show and do not Tell.

[Dms]

Dude,
I didn't know you were a writer! Seriously though, this was very good. An interesting voice piece I would say, giving us the perspective of the watch. I also like the idea of a watch, watching. It seems strangely intuitive when you think of the way in which parts of a watch are named. The face, the hands...you may want to play with that a little more if you decide to edit this. Also, there are some ares in which you might change a word or two for better flow, but if you really want to get into that I could talk with you in person. I think you would have a better idea of how to impove it than me.