The couple that time forgot

The old house stood at the edge of town, wrapped in the embrace of ivy and silence. No one knew its true age, only that it had been there for as long as anyone could remember. The windows, once gleaming with life, were now clouded with dust, and the front door, though still sturdy, creaked with the weight of years. The townsfolk rarely spoke of it, except in whispers, for within its walls lived a couple—an impossible couple—unchanged by time.

Daniel and Eleanor had once been the pride of the town. He, a brilliant clockmaker, and she, a gifted artist, were inseparable. Their love was legendary, envied by many and admired by all. But as the decades passed, something strange began to happen. While their friends and neighbors grew older, Daniel and Eleanor remained the same. Their faces did not wrinkle, their hair did not gray, and their eyes held the same youthful sparkle they had on their wedding day.

At first, it was dismissed as good genetics, a miracle of nature. But as the years turned into decades, and then a century, unease crept into the town. People whispered of curses and bargains with unseen forces. Some believed the couple had made a pact with time itself, trading something unknown for eternal youth.

One winter evening, a young journalist named Oliver arrived in town, drawn by the legends surrounding the house. He had read the accounts—newspaper clippings, diary entries, and even an old portrait of the couple that looked eerily identical to the way they appeared now. Driven by curiosity, he decided to see them for himself.

Knocking on the door, he expected silence, but to his surprise, it swung open almost immediately. Eleanor stood before him, just as the portraits had described—golden hair, delicate features, and an air of grace that seemed untouched by time. Beside her, Daniel watched with knowing eyes, his hands folded neatly in front of him.

"You must be Oliver," Eleanor said warmly. "We’ve been expecting you."

Oliver hesitated. "You have?"

Daniel chuckled. "People like you come every few decades. Those who can't help but question what they do not understand."

Oliver stepped inside, the scent of old books and lavender filling his senses. The house was pristine, frozen in a moment of perfect nostalgia. Paintings adorned the walls—scenes of the town as it had been a century ago, unchanged, just like them. Clocks of every shape and size lined the shelves, their ticking synchronized in eerie harmony.

"What is your secret?" Oliver asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eleanor smiled sadly. "Would you believe us if we told you?"

"Try me."

Daniel led him to a massive grandfather clock in the corner. "This was my first masterpiece," he said, running his fingers along its polished wood. "And the last mistake I ever made."

Oliver frowned. "A mistake?"

Eleanor sighed. "Time is not a force to be controlled, but Daniel tried. He crafted this clock with precision beyond human understanding, hoping to create the perfect measure of time. But in doing so, he did something else—he bound us to it. The moment the final gear was placed, time ceased to touch us."

Oliver stared at the clock, its hands moving in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. "So you're... trapped?"

Daniel nodded. "We've lived countless years, watched generations come and go. At first, it was a gift. But now..." He hesitated. "Now, it's a burden. Time has forgotten us, but we remember everything."

"Can’t you break it?"

Eleanor shook her head. "If we destroy the clock, we don’t know what will happen. Perhaps we will age all at once, or perhaps we will cease to exist entirely. So we wait, watching time slip past us, untouched yet bound to it."

Oliver felt a shiver run through him. He had expected mystery, but he had not anticipated sorrow. "Why did you let me in?"

Daniel met his gaze. "Because one day, someone will find a way to fix what I have done. Maybe not today. Maybe not in this lifetime. But stories are how we ensure that the right person will come."

Oliver nodded, understanding that he was now part of their tale. As he left, he glanced back once more at the house, knowing that within its walls, time stood still, waiting for the day it would finally remember the couple it had long forgotten.