Ancient Clock
In a mysterious mansion, a buyer seeks an ancient clock. He encounters Sandy, its guardian, and triggers its magic
Somewhere away from the village named Flowless, nestled deep within the eerie embrace of ancient forests, there stood a mansion shrouded in mystery. Its walls whispered secrets of ages past, and its halls echoed with the footsteps of time itself. It was here that a buyer of antique timepieces, driven by a thirst for history, sought to uncover the enigma of a clock frozen in time.
The buyer, a man of scholarly demeanor and keen intellect, had heard tales of a middle-aged maiden who resided within the walls of the mansion — a guardian of the clock whose origins remained shrouded in shadow.
Determined to add this elusive artifact to his museum collection, he ventured forth into the unknown, his curiosity ablaze like the flickering flame of a lantern in the darkness.
As the buyer ventured deeper into the heart of the forest, the dense canopy above cast the world below in a dappled mosaic of shadow and light. With each step, the familiar landmarks of the village faded into obscurity, leaving him disoriented and uncertain of his path. Yet, driven by an insatiable curiosity, he pressed on, his determination unwavering despite the encroaching sense of unease.
It was then, amidst the whispering of fall leaves and the distant calls of nocturnal creatures, that he caught sight of a peculiar sign — a weathered wooden plaque adorned with cryptic symbols that seemed to shimmer in the faint moonlight. Intrigued by the mysterious inscription, he approached cautiously, his heart quickening with anticipation.
As he studied the strange markings etched into the wood, a sense of recognition stirred within him — Sandy’s Mansion — a fleeting memory of tales whispered by village elders of a hidden path that led to the mansion of the mysterious maiden named Sandy.
With newfound resolve, he followed the winding trail, his senses attuned to the subtle shifts in the forest around him.
The path twisted and turned like a serpent weaving through the undergrowth, its winding course illuminated by the soft glow of fireflies dancing in the night. Strange whispers seemed to emanate from the shadows as if the very forest itself held secrets waiting to be revealed.
At last, after what felt like an eternity of wandering, the buyer emerged into a clearing bathed in moonlight, the silhouette of the mansion looming before him like a ghostly specter rising from the mist. Its ivy-covered walls seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, beckoning him closer with an irresistible allure.
As he approached, a massive, illuminated mansion unfolded before him. However, the peculiar hourglasses to his left and right captured his attention the most.
“Oh my…” he stood frozen in awe, “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
With cautious steps, he approached the ancient threshold, his heart pounding with a mixture of trepidation and excitement, “Hello!” the stranger knocked on the door, but there was no response. “Hello! Anybody here?”
Yet, there was no response. A few moments later, the man noticed that the door was unlocked, and he decided to enter the house, assuming that the woman inside could be sick or even dead.
As he crossed the threshold of the mansion, he was met with the sight of the maiden, her eyes as strange and captivating as the depths of the forest at twilight. “Ohh…” the woman began, “I can’t speak loud, so you probably didn’t hear that I was coming.”
“Oh, yeah, yes, I’m so sorry. I just thought that maybe you … you or someone else inside was in trouble.”
“In trouble?” the woman smiled. “Come in, just take off your shoes first.”
“Of course, thank you,” the buyer began taking off the shoes in a hurry.
“Take your time…” She greeted him with a serene smile. “What’s your name?”
“Oh, I’m Harry, and you are Sandy, right?”
“I am…” the woman nodded. “So, would you like to take a look at my famous clock?”
“Yes, I would,” the man answered in anticipation.
“Alright then. Follow me … we need to go deeper a bit.”
Ascending the enormous staircase, the proprietor of the manor escorted the wayfarer. The moment they stepped down, he beheld a massive chamber with a huge clock on the wall.
“Wow! Is that that famous clock?” the man couldn’t believe his eyes.
“No, it’s just the biggest clock in my mansion, but the special one is over there, in the room.”
While strolling around, the buyer peered at the subfloor’s waterfalls and the enormous clock from all directions. “Excuse me, but how do you take care of all this? Your husband helps?”
“Husband?” she chuckled. “No, he was gone like an eternity ago.”
“Because of sickness?”
“Because of impatience,” she chuckled.
“You have a very strange sense of humor,” the man smiled.
The woman kept a serious expression on her face, “Maybe … so, in this room, please.”
Once they entered the room, the man’s eyes immediately detected the most ancient clock, “Sandy, is that clock over there?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
Intrigued by the clock’s mysterious allure, the buyer could not tear his gaze away from its weathered face, pondering the secrets it held. Yet, when he broached the subject of purchasing the clock, the maiden’s resolve remained unyielding.
“This clock is priceless,” the woman firmly said, “but you may take a picture of it.”
“Ok … but maybe we could discuss the bargain tomorrow with fresh heads?”
The landlady looked at him and shook her head, “I don’t think my opinion will change tomorrow, and the clock doesn’t work properly,” she smiled.
“And what’s wrong with the clock?”
“The minute hand goes with the same pace as the second one.”
“But what if I can fix the clock?” the buyer didn’t give up. “Would you sell me that?”
“I’m not sure,” the woman shook her head a bit. “It’s my memory of my husband.”
“Was he a clock master?”
“Not really, but he also tried to fix it ... even though I didn’t ask him about that.”
“I see … By the way, I saw some hourglasses outside, are those sculptures?”
“No, they are real hourglasses ... I have many of them, but my favorite ones are in the Timeless Room.”
“Timeless Room?” Harry furrowed.
“Yeah, would you like to take a look?” she smiled.
“Of course!”
“Ok, follow me then.”
As they approached the massive doors made of stone, the man began to hear not only the sound of water flowing but also the sound of sand flowing.
“Are you ready, Harry?” she asked, turning her head to see the buyer's curious face. The man nodded in response, and then she opened the door.
“Wo-o-o-ow!” he exclaimed.
“How do you like it?”
“Awesome! But,” the man furrowed, “you can’t find sand like that around the village.”
“I agree. The pieces of sand are literally worth their weight in life,” the woman gave a weird smile.
“Ha-ha-ha! I love your sense of humor, after all,” he wiped away the sweat with his handkerchief. “But you know what, I’d give half the value of your mansion for your antique clock.”
Sandy smiled, “I also like your sense of humor, but — ”
“I am serious!”
“…But my clock has never been valued so cheaply. Ha-ha-ha!”
“I see … Well, let’s discuss it tomorrow. Where can I stay overnight? Is there a hotel nearby?”
“There is no, but you may stay overnight here.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No … This time, I’m serious,” her face as grim as a zombie. “Yet, maybe you would like to have some food or drink before going to bed?”
“Oh, thank you very much. Yes, maybe some cocoa … Do you have cocoa?”
“Yes, take a seat, please, at the chocolate table,” she gestured toward the table.
Seated at his table, Harry gazed in awe at the hostess’s every move. As she poured the milk on the table, it started to boil slowly instead of spilling all over the place. The opposite side of the table, however, slid off and melted like chocolate due to the extreme heat.
Yet his mind was totally consumed by the elusive timepiece that had captured his imagination — he was frozen in time with his thoughts.
“Here is your cocoa,” she scooped the mug across the table like a bucket across a river. Once the mug stood in front of the buyer — the table turned into a casual condition.
The man was drinking slowly while thinking about the ancient clock. An hour later, as he lay in bed, his thoughts drifting like leaves upon a gentle breeze, he heard the soft click of the door closing behind him, sealing him in darkness.
In the depths of the night, as the mansion slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, the buyer’s curiosity got the better of him. With silent steps, he made his way back to the chamber beneath, his gaze drawn once more to the ancient clock that stood sentinel over the room.
It was then that he noticed a fault in the clock — a subtle imperfection that had eluded his gaze until now, “Hmm … I can easily fix it … she will be happy to see her clock works properly.”
With trembling hands, he reached out to touch the mechanism, his heart racing with anticipation. And as he did, the clock began to chime, its voice echoing through the stillness of the night like a haunting melody.
At that moment, the air crackled with magic, and the maiden’s eyes widened with fear as she realized the gravity of the buyer’s actions, “What have you done?” she implored.
For in awakening the clock from its slumber, the buyer had set in motion a chain of events beyond his control — a reckoning that would unfold with the inexorable passage of time.
As the clock’s chime reverberates through the mansion, it unexpectedly reverses the aging process for the woman, restoring her to her youthful beauty.
“Look in the mirror … you are getting younger…” the buyer said in awe.
“But you are not…” the woman shook her head with a somber face.
Suddenly, the buyer began to feel the weight of his unsolicited action manifesting physically as he rapidly ages before the maiden’s eyes. “Hey?” he couldn’t realize what was going on, “how can I stop it?”
“Maybe by death…” she said with a grin, her youth restoring like a flower blooming after a long winter.
In his final moments, the buyer grasped at the fleeting sands of time, his regrets echoing through the empty halls of the mansion. For the maiden, the reversal of her aging is a bittersweet realization—a reminder of the impermanence of youth and the transient nature of beauty.
In the end, as the buyer’s life slips away like grains of sand through an hourglass, the maiden is left to contemplate the karmic balance that governs the universe.
With a glance at the ancient clock, the woman’s smile illuminated the room. Gracefully, she took up the broom, sweeping with meticulous care. Each scoop of sand found its destined place, trickling into the waiting receptacles of the colossal hourglass nestled beneath the basement floor, a timeless choreography of moments captured and released.
Suddenly, Sandy heard a knock on the door, “Hey there! Is anybody here?” the man’s voice asked from outside. “Me and my wife are looking for the ancient clock?”
“They are not for sale,” Sandy uttered while coming to the door to open.
“We are ready to give everything for the clock — ”
“Everything?” Sandy opened the door with a grin on her face. “Come in, then.”
Copyright © Alex Baidun 2024. All rights reserved.
