Judgment Day (Book of Hours Pt. IX)
There were only hours left when Gerald paid a visit to his most trusted ally. Sherry opened the door, wiping the sleep out of her eyes with a smile. They sat on her couch and he told her about everything: his grandfather, the legend of the watch, the train wreck, the inheritance from his long-lost relative, their work together to improve the world. His hand quaked so much the time piece fell onto its face on the floor somewhere in the middle of the story. When he finished she picked up the watch and smiled as she set it in his hand, gleaning an insight which had eluded him. He closed his eyes and broke down, unable to bare to watch the final seconds tick off, he waited for the aneurism, or meteor, or – suddenly he felt Sherry’s lips on his and his heart swelled. He stared into her emerald eyes welling up with tears when he felt the gears stop. His eyes darted downward and stared at the same face that met him when he was ten: all hands at twelve. Sherry could see the confusion in his eyes and said, “Your life has ended, our life can begin.” And the hands never moved again.
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