Lost Time

The pocket watch sat on my desk since the day I picked it up. I don’t really know why I felt the urge to save the watch. I was never the person who would just keep anything I saw lying around. Yet, when I laid my eyes on the watch, I just needed to run my fingers on the gold trimming around it. It felt so delicate under my thumb, the form somehow familiar but also mysterious.

Every time I looked at the pocket watch, different thoughts of time would strike me. Time as a thief of youth. Time as the healer. Time as the nemesis of life. Hours would have gone by before I realized that I got trapped in the labyrinth of thought.

Slipping my hand into my pocket, I realized the pocket watch is no longer there. It is the first time I decided to bring it out with me, and I have lost it. Maybe it was time for the watch to inspire someone else.

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