The Clockmaker’s Gift

The Town That Forgot How to Dream

The town of Willowsend had long forgotten how to dream. Its people moved like clockwork—quiet, punctual, and hollow. The only exception lived in a crooked little shop at the end of Wren Street, surrounded by gears, springs, and the faint scent of lavender oil.

His name was Mr. Elric Doven, the town’s last clockmaker.

Children whispered stories about him. Some said he was a magician. Others believed he could stop time. Most had never dared to find out. But one rainy afternoon, a twelve-year-old girl named **Elsie** stepped into his shop, curiosity outweighing her fear.

“You’re Late.”

The shop looked like a place frozen in history. Hundreds of clocks lined the walls, each ticking slightly out of sync. In the middle of the chaos sat Mr. Doven, hunched over a desk, his glasses slipping down his nose as he turned a tiny screwdriver.

-> “You’re late,” he said, without looking up.

Elsie froze. “You were expecting me?”

“No. But I’ve been waiting just the same.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

-> “You’re the baker’s girl, yes? The one who always watches the window but never comes in?”

Elsie nodded.

“Then you must be here for a story,” he said, standing slowly and reaching for a dusty box. “Or a gift.”

A Clock That Measures Regret

From the box, he pulled a strange pocket watch. It shimmered with a dull gold hue, and its hands ticked backward.

-> “This is no ordinary timepiece,” he explained. “This clock does not count minutes. It counts *moments*—regrets, mostly. Wind it once, and it will take you back to a single choice.”

Elsie stared at it. “Why would anyone want to go back?”

-> “To say something they didn’t,” he said softly. “Or to stop something they wish they hadn’t started.”

She hesitated, then whispered, “Does it really work?”

Mr. Doven looked at her for a long time, then said, “It worked for me—once.”

She didn’t ask what moment he went back to.

Instead, she took the watch.

The Moment She Chose

That night, Elsie sat on her windowsill, clutching the strange gift. Her brother had died the year before, in a flood that swept through the east fields. She had screamed at him that morning—for breaking her model ship. She had never said sorry.

The clock ticked gently in her hands.

Then it stopped.

The world slowed. Her bedroom faded. The air smelled of river mud and warm summer bread. She was back—standing by the window, watching her brother sling his fishing rod over his shoulder.

She ran.

Out the door. Across the garden. Down the path.

He turned at the sound of her feet. “What now?” he grumbled.

She threw her arms around him and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He stood still, surprised. Then his arms wrapped around her.

> “It’s okay,” he said.

She never saw him again after that.

---

Willowsend Remembered

Years later, after Elsie had grown up and taken over the bakery, she still visited the old shop on Wren Street. It had remained untouched since the clockmaker passed, ticking away with clocks no one had wound.

The pocket watch remained on her desk, its hands forever still.

And the town of Willowsend began to remember how to dream.

In the quiet town of Willowsend, where dreams had faded, a girl named Elsie meets the mysterious clockmaker Mr. Doven. He gives her a magical watch that turns back time. She uses it to undo a painful regret, finding peace. Years later, her act of courage rekindles hope, and slowly, the town begins to remember how to dream again.