0% found this document useful (0 votes)
20 views2 pages

Clockmaster

The Clockmaker's Secret tells the story of Mr. Hargrove, a village clockmaker, and a mysterious grandfather clock that has never worked. A curious young man named Thomas inquires about the clock, leading Mr. Hargrove to reveal that it holds a secret meant to be kept hidden, one that he cannot understand or repair. The clock remains a puzzling enigma, deepening its mystery over time.

Uploaded by

mailnaspamu
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
0% found this document useful (0 votes)
20 views2 pages

Clockmaster

The Clockmaker's Secret tells the story of Mr. Hargrove, a village clockmaker, and a mysterious grandfather clock that has never worked. A curious young man named Thomas inquires about the clock, leading Mr. Hargrove to reveal that it holds a secret meant to be kept hidden, one that he cannot understand or repair. The clock remains a puzzling enigma, deepening its mystery over time.

Uploaded by

mailnaspamu
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
You are on page 1/ 2

The Clockmaker’s Secret

Old Mr. Hargrove was known to everyone in the village as the clockmaker. His tiny shop,
nestled between two towering brick buildings, was filled with the sound of ticking —
hundreds of clocks, all ticking in perfect unison. The air smelled of oil and wood, the floors
creaked beneath the weight of time itself, and the walls were lined with intricate, beautiful
clocks of all shapes and sizes.

But there was one clock that no one ever spoke of. It sat in the farthest corner of the shop,
hidden behind dusty shelves and forgotten relics. It was an antique, a large, ornate grandfather
clock with a tarnished golden pendulum. The clock had never worked, at least not since
anyone could remember. The villagers often whispered about it, wondering if Mr. Hargrove
had once tried to repair it, or whether it was just another forgotten piece of history.

One day, as the village prepared for its annual festival, a young man named Thomas ventured
into the clockmaker’s shop. He had always been curious about the mysterious clock in the
corner, and on this particular afternoon, with the streets bustling with excitement, he decided
to ask about it.

“Mr. Hargrove?” Thomas called, stepping into the dimly lit shop. The old man looked up
from his workbench, his spectacles perched precariously on his nose. He gave a faint smile.

“Ah, young Thomas. What brings you here today?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask about the clock in the corner,” Thomas said, gesturing toward the
dusty grandfather clock. “It’s always fascinated me. Why doesn’t it ever work?”

Mr. Hargrove’s face darkened, the smile fading from his lips. “Ah, that clock,” he murmured,
as if the very mention of it caused him discomfort. “That clock is not for sale, nor is it for
anyone’s eyes.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Why? What’s so special about it?”

The clockmaker hesitated before responding, his voice barely above a whisper. “That clock
was built for a purpose. It’s not like the others. It holds a secret. A secret that I’m afraid only
time will reveal.”

Thomas’s curiosity was piqued, and he pressed further. “What kind of secret?”

Mr. Hargrove paused, his fingers tracing the edge of the clock’s wooden frame. “I made that
clock for someone a long time ago. It was meant to keep track of more than just time — it was
meant to hold something much deeper, something that no one was meant to know.”

Before Thomas could ask another question, the clockmaker added, “But I’m afraid it’s beyond
my understanding now. I’ve tried to repair it, but it always eludes me. The clock is a puzzle,
one that I don’t have the answer to. And perhaps no one ever will.”

With that, the conversation ended, and Thomas left the shop, his mind swirling with
questions. As the years passed, the clock remained in the corner, untouched, its mystery
growing.

You might also like