Clockwork

In today's story, Clockwork, romance blooms in a clock shop

Today's prompt came from a hazy dream of gears moving like clockwork. Today's episode also includes a reintroduction for listeners who are new to Freely Written. 

As always, this story was written from the prompt, with no planning and very little editing. If you enjoy today's story, please share it with your friends and leave a review for Freely Written. Thank you!


More about Susan Quilty

Susan Quilty mainly writes novels, including two standalone novels and her current YA series: The Psychic Traveler Society.  Susan's short stories for Freely Written are created during quick writing breaks and shared as a way to practice her narration skills before she dives into recording audio versions of her novels.

Website:  SusanQuilty.com
Facebook: Freely Written
The Freely Written Book: Freely Written Vol. 1
Freely Written merch: Bitter Lily Books Shop

Transcript

Below is the transcript for Season 1, Episode 107 of Freely Written, a podcast by author Susan Quilty:

Welcome to Freely Written where a simple prompt leads to a little unplanned fiction. 

[Light piano music]

Hi, friends! I’m Susan Quilty and today’s prompt is Clockwork.

January seems like a good time to reintroduce myself for anyone who has recently started listening to Freely Written. First off, welcome! Whether this is your first time joining or you’ve been following from the beginning, I truly appreciate you taking the time to join me for a story break. 

So, who am I? My name is Susan Quilty and I primarily write novels. This podcast, with its very short, unplanned stories, is very different than my typical writing. My novels tend to be contemporary fiction that is grounded in reality but may have a science fiction, fantasy, or psychological twist. 

Unlike these podcast stories, my novels are meticulously planned and carefully edited before being published. This podcast gives me a chance for more spontaneous creativity, and it helps me let go of the idea that everything I do has to be perfect before it is published. 

Sometimes, it’s really nice to share a bit of writing that is raw and unpolished. Of course, that means the stories on this podcast can be a little hit or miss. I truly love some of them, while others maybe didn’t come out as well as I’d hoped. Yet, I’ve gotten compliments on some of my least favorite stories, which has been an interesting reminder that art is subjective. 

If you’d like to learn more about my novels. Please visit my website: SusanQuilty.com. There’s always a link in the show notes. You can read descriptions of my novels, and some fairly long excerpts, so you can find the book that’s right for you. 

In addition to my novels, I also have a silly choose-your-ending style book that blends three genres: sci-fi, fantasy, and rom-com. There’s also a Freely Written book that includes 20 favorite stories from this podcast. It’s a great gift for those who prefer to read short stories, and, of course, purchasing any of my books helps support this podcast and my writing in general. 

As a reminder, my process for writing podcasts stories is simple. I sit down with a chosen prompt and write whatever comes to mind, with no planning and very little editing, and then I share that story with you. 

Let’s get on with today’s story: 

Clockwork 

At eleven seconds before the hour, the spindle begins to turn. It rotates smoothly, a graceful spinning within the larger whirring of the ticking gears and swinging pendulum. Gustav scarcely hears this rhythmic dance as his fixed eyes await the first crack of light as the catch disengages from the door before him. The moment it is free, the wooden door pops open with a soft puff of air. The breath of the clock coming to life—of Gustav coming to life—for the precious seconds that span the turning of each hour. 

Gustav trundles forward after a tiny jerk sets him in motion. He cannot move his head or eyes, but he can see the shop in arcing glimpses as he travels along his miniature track. Gustav’s rigid body is mounted on a slim pole, but his arms and legs lightly swing with the slight vibrations of the mechanism that pulls him forward. It feels good to move after 59 minutes of stillness. 

As Gustav moves away from his small door, he sees a large window at the far side of the shop. During daylight hours, people often pass beyond its glass, rushing wherever it is people rush to throughout their days. Sometimes there are people in the shop as well, admiring the clocks that are spread along every wall and perched across many long shelves. 

Gustav takes in his view of the shop and distant window as he moves forward but too soon the track beneath him turns, sweeping his gaze toward the counter that holds the ornately scrolled cash register and a small bell to ring if Noah is not behind the counter. 

It is rare that Noah is not behind the counter. Gustav often sees him there, tinkering with tiny clockwork parts or gazing sullenly at passersby beyond the front window. He is there now. His arms are folded across his chest and his head is lightly bowed. Gustav can see more of Noah’s pale scalp than ever before, though the hair around it still lays in long silver waves. 

Though Noah’s hair has been silver for many seasons, Gustav remembers when it was a deep chestnut brown with glimmers of red woven throughout. The shop had been livelier than with less clocks on the walls and more people taking them home. 

There was a time when Gustav thought he would go home with one of the people who wandered the shop. Several stopped to admire his clock and his own jaunty red mustache. But Noah refused to let him go. 

Gustav does not think about these things as his path ticks forward. The memories are simply there, part of him just as his clock has always been part of Noah’s shop. Instead, Gustav thinks about the shift his view is about to bring. His body trembles as he rounds the bend in the track. His gaze swings away from Noah, bringing him parallel to the front of his clock. And there, on a similar track, Giselle clicks into place at the center of her clock. 

Like Gustav, Giselle’s body is mounted on a slim pole. Yet a long skirt billows around her and her arms clasp a parasol that teeters on her slender shoulder. 

Like Giselle, Gustav has also come to a stop. For a fraction of a second, he takes in the full sight of Giselle in her pink-and-white dress. There is a swish in the bell of the dress, a remnant of her sudden stop. Gustav can barely see the motion from this distance, but he can sense it, just as he senses the tremble in her golden curls. A tremble that also quivers his red mustache. 

Above them both, small doors pop open. They are both rotated forward. Gustav now looking at a row of clocks on the opposite wall. Giselle now studying Gustav’s trim profile. Tiny birds slide out of the upper doors. They chirp the hour. One… Two… Three… A planned shimmy beneath Gustav’s body has set his arms and legs dancing. Six… Seven… Eight… Gustav longs to turn back toward Giselle but he is trapped in his jolly dance until the ninth chirp. 

As the birds pull back into their houses, Gustav and Giselle swivel back to their original directions. Gustav’s eyes glance across Giselle’s as they turn along their tracks. For a few more moments, Gustav can watch Giselle glide along her track, then he comes to the bend that turns him toward his own clock. Another tiny door has opened, allowing him back inside, where he will be shifted along the final bit of track and swiveled into his starting position. 

In 59 minutes, Gustav will begin another journey. He thinks of Giselle, wishing he could face her at the very top of the hour. He imagines a similar shimmy sets her skirt swaying and parasol bobbing as their cuckoos chirp above. 

In the darkness of her own clock, Giselle’s skirt and parasol have stilled. In 58 minutes, she will venture back into the shop, trundling forward in nervous anticipation. She thinks of the cuckoo quietly nesting above her. There will be ten chirps on her next pass. Ten whole chirps to enjoy her view of Gustav’s joyful dance. 

Behind the counter, Noah greets a customer. He smiles pleasantly, hanging back to allow them space to admire his creations. They just missed a round of cuckoos, but more will sound soon. They are timed in groups, each wonderous display echoing through his shop like clockwork. 

The End

Thanks for listening. I hope you enjoyed this little view from a cuckoo clock. I’ve never owned a cuckoo clock, though I vaguely remember visiting a shop full of them on a family vacation when I was young. From what I remember, some of them were really creative with little people coming out to dance every hour. It’s interesting to see what memories come up when you give your mind space to wander. 

If you are enjoying Freely Written, please share it with your friends. You can also connect with me through social media or through my website, which, again, is SusanQuilty.com

Until next time, try a little free writing of your own. Let go of any planning and see where your imagination takes you. 

[Light piano music]