The Young Watchmaker

(C) Alastair Forbes. Sundays Photo Fiction (SPF), Aug 23, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Alastair Forbes.
– An Intricate Looking Wristwatch (C) Alastair Forbes. Sundays Photo Fiction (SPF), Aug 23, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Alastair Forbes.

Everyone has to start somewhere

But he never knew it was so difficult.

Cogs, gears, springs and screws laid around him in a messy circle

and they were scattered all over the work desk.

Tunnel vision is his strongest suit anyway

And right now it was trained on the central gold-piece

A tong in a hand, a screwdriver in the other,

He stared with squinted eyes magnified a thousand fold

Fiddle, twiddle, a click and a snap,

His eyes widened

Was that it?

Was he done?

He attached the housing, screwed it shut,

inserted the battery, gave it life.

Tick Tick Tick, it was music to his ears.

Word count: 108

The Young Watchmaker

The Ritual of Watch-Buying

Over the weekend, I came to be in possession of a small fortune disguised as a handsome wristwatch. Thanks, mom. Thanks, dad. This is the first time I had a watch worth this much. I’m probably wearing the most expensive item I own on my wrist. But this post is not to brag. This watch feels like a burden to me.

My previous watches had never cost more than half a thousand but I liked them. They were hardy and casual and they told the time. And frankly, that’s all anyone should ask from a timepiece of any sort. I wear my watches to sleep and to bathe and I almost never take them off. They would be there when I’m engaging in sports and other activities, where sometimes, my wrist would clash with a hard surface. Those watches did the job of protecting me, as watches should. I treat my watches a sort of wrist armor. Of course, they inevitably became scratched, but the well-worn state made them look even better. It symbolises the rough times we had together (hah! A pun.)

But now, I’m not wearing an armor anymore, despite it being more expensive than the sum of all the watches I’ve ever worn. The roles are reversed; where watches previously protected me, now I’m supposed to care for my new timepiece. This sounds slightly exaggerated, but in some sense, that’s the way I feel. “We love things and we use humans.” My life is going to be radically different from now on. These gears and springs in a glass cylinder attached to a shiny chain is going to control my life from time to time: making me waste minutes to clean it, to be mindful enough to remove it before games, to give me a day or more of rummaging through hell if I ever lose it…

However, on the flipside, I guess it also represents something more significant though: a proof that my parents are confident of my responsibility to own an expensive timepiece. Perhaps in their eyes, I am finally a man.

On hindsight, this post seems like a boy whining about his new responsibility and a bad idea. I guess I have to man up to see that it is a milestone everyone will experience: the ritual of watch-buying and with it, the wearer’s coming of age. But on a side note, this timepiece may be representing something entirely different: the panic buying as a response to my government’s upcoming implementation of the Goods & Service Tax (GST).

The Ritual of Watch-Buying