The Clockmaker

It was that part of the world and that time of year when the sun never properly set and never properly rose. It was even observed that it was perfectly stationary; as such, it was nearly impossible to tell what time it was. This gave birth to a strange phenomenon: people were constantly annoyed by the lateness of others, but could do nothing about said lateness. After all, when one person corrected his watch’s slowness, another corrected his watch’s haste, and there was only ever consensus between two people, never more.

The clockmaker, for whom time stood stationary while he worked, sat in his workshop. Presently he was putting the finishing touches to his perfectly accurate clock. He hoped that it might become the town’s timekeeping authority, and that the town’s endemic lateness would be cured once and for all. His doting wife, who every day brought him a new wholesome meal, would ask him why he put himself through such trouble to help the townspeople. She opined first that they would not appreciate it, and second that at any rate there would never be a state of things which most people would not find bothersome. He stuck stalwartly to his conviction, however, and within a matter of weeks, completed his clock.

He had asked his friends in the days prior to its completion to hand out brochures explaining the new model, and imploring people to attend its unveiling in the town square. Not all of them heeded—as would be expected—but a fair few did. Those that did arrived at different times, but invariably they were very early. So early, in fact, that they grew impatient at the clockmaker’s lateness, and many of them left in frustration.

“Wait!” he shouted as he arrived perfectly on time. “Today I hope to present to you my newest and best clock. This clock, my friends, is so accurate that in a thousand years it won’t be more than one millisecond slow! You see, this clock that I have in my hands is the solution to our town’s problem. No longer will we be late to our meetings! No longer will we be too early!”

The townspeople did not approve of his tone. “Oh! We have a problem, do we?” they said. “As I recall, it was you who came late, not we. It seems that the people are substantially in agreement.”

“I was not late, I assure you. It was you who were early!”

But this did not mix well with the crowd’s angered cocktail, and they left in large numbers.

The clockmaker stood alone on the podium and looked about the town square, empty other than his doting wife, who sought to comfort him.

Despite public disapproval, the mayor obliged with the clockmaker’s proposition, and put the clock up on the prominent church tower so that everyone could see it no matter where they stood. Every day, people passed through its shadow; none noticed the source of the shadow but for a negligible few. They continued with their lifelong ways, remaining always much too late and much too early for their meetings, and paid no heed at all to the towering clock above them.