The Clockmaker’s Heart

In a workshop filled with ticking and whirring, lived a clockmaker named Bram. His creations were famous not for their precision, but for their empathy.

A clock for the grieving slowed time when tears fell.

A watch for lovers ticked faster when hands touched.

A sundial for the lonely glowed softly at dusk.

But Bram’s own heart was failing. He’d built thousands of clocks — yet never one that could save him.

One evening, a girl arrived with a broken locket-watch. “It belonged to my mother,” she said. “Can you fix it?”

He did. When he opened the watch, he found inside not gears — but a small engraving of two initials: B + E. It was his. The girl smiled.

“My mother said you promised to return when her time stopped.”

The climax: Bram realized the watch contained part of his own heartbeat — given long ago to the woman he’d loved and lost. He wound it one last time.

When morning came, the workshop was silent. Only the girl’s watch ticked steadily — two beats in perfect rhythm.

Years later, travelers spoke of a clock tower built in his honor — one that chimed twice for every hour, as if keeping time for two hearts instead of one.