In a peaceful town, there carried on with an old clockmaker named Samuel, known for his expertise in fixing watches. His shop was loaded up with tickers of each and every size, except there was one clock he never contacted — an enormous, fancy pendulum clock that remained in the corner. The residents murmured that it was broken, yet Samuel generally grinned and said, “It keeps time in its own specific manner.”
One turbulent night, an inquisitive young man named Leo entered the shop. He got some information about the pendulum clock, and Samuel murmured, it its confidential to uncover. “This clock doesn’t check hours,” he said. “It marks minutes — minutes that matter.”
With a delicate turn of the key, the clock started to tick. Leo watched in wonder as recollections streaked in the clock’s pendulum — his most memorable bicycle ride, his mom’s grin. The clock was not broken. It basically helped individuals to remember the valuable minutes they frequently neglected, training them to appreciate time.
And afterward, it halted.
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