Salon Piece
Reader ’ s corner
Old , Mr . Sackville sat in his old , rocking chair , gazing fondly at the pure gold clock perched on top of his pile of old , yellowish magazines — an award he had received on his first day of work . Today had been his first day of work , a memorable day that would precede some 35 years of labor . He thought of the elaborate party earlier that day , with all the new faces , lots of waving , clapping , the sheer merriment . And , yes , amidst all the excitement his new boss had presented to him this marvelous gold clock .
The clock was unique in design and quite expertly crafted . From the front , it was a perfect semi-circle , with the face of the clock set in the middle . Around it , and all over the semi-circle surface , strands of silver were etched into the gold , in a vintage flower-and-leaf pattern . Near the bottom of the clock was inscribed the words , ‘
’ in beautiful italic script . Old Mr . Sackville — soon to be young Mr . Sackville — marveled as the clock hands move at their own right speed … from 12 to 11 , to 10 … 3 , 2 , 1 , and then back to twelve . He remembered with amusement what he had read somewhere before — that far , far away in clock hands move the other way around , because goes the other way around . Of , course , that might well be just a story . , he thought ,
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