The Lost Clock Emporium
I can’t remember exactly how I ended up at the Lost Clock Emporium. I do remember brushing by disturbed looking people making their way out.
“Clock a load of you!”, the proprietor muttered, before looking up. “No time to waste, I have things to show you.”
He shooed me over to a long wall covered in old wall clocks. I noticed that some larger clocks had a gear attached to their outer case.
“Are these – rotating clocks?” I asked.
“Twelve out of twelve. Now take a look.”
He gestured at the first horreur horlogère:
My temples pulsed as I gazed on.
“It’s… fast?”, I offered. “And the minute hand is stuck?”
“Mujer de fuego!” he exasperated, all at once. “It’s fine! Yes, I sped up my clocks 300 times for demonstration purposes. But it’s telling the time just fine. Hit that stop button and you will find the time makes perfect sense!”
I did so, and it did.
“Next one! Only a slight difference to this one. You might guess what.”
“So this clock is from the point of view of the hour hand”, I offered. He nodded. “Next next!”
I shuffled along the dusty wall to the next timepiece. He drew a deep breath.
“I call this the Devil’s Clock. It rotates 13 times counter-clockwise in a day. The effect is that the two hands appear to go in opposite directions. And they always mirror each other. A mirror in time! And yet, it is still a working clock that you can read.”
I rubbed my chin dubiously. But it was true.
“But how is it so annoying to look at?” I blurted out.
“Ahhh. Don’t get cheesed off. It is your own expectations that are playing with you. The hands on a clock shouldn’t go in opposite directions, of course. Isn’t it beautiful that the minute hand appears to somehow move faster than the hour hand? But they are moving at the same speed. Your brain gland is not used to such trouble.”
My poor brain gland indeed. It was beginning to throb, partly in confusion, partly in wonder. But I saw that we’d arrived at the final spinning clock.
“And finally I present to you: Hades’ Timepiece. An essential ingredient for this is a mirror clock. These tickers have numbers and hands that go counter-clockwise. Such objects can spring into being due to accidents of the dark occult. Or, erm, manufacturing problems in factories.” He looked sheepish.
I took in the clock, using my eyeballs, the usual way.
“So again it reads like a normal clock, allowing for the counter-clockwise layout of the numbers”, I pondered aloud.
“Oui.”
And… what else? Ah, the speed of the hands!
“So the minute hand is going the normal speed of the hour hand, and vice versa?”
“Yes!” he glowed. “And what else?”
I looked, possibly too close. I wasn’t seeing anything special.
“Trying squinting”, he suggested.
I squant and it soon become clear.
“Oh! If I ignore the moving numbers and just pretend they’re in the usual place, and going clockwise… The slowest moving hand points the hour and the fastest moving hand points to the minutes… of the current time!”
“Majestic!” he beamed.
“But… how is that? What on earth…”
I didn’t get to finish my sentence. The clocks all started whirring and chiming and my vision dimmed and my head grew light.
And then I was aware of nothing but the proprietors voice.
“I am honoured that you took in the sights of my clock emporium. You should know that my niece owns a small projection house, which may have some curiosities for you.”
Whatever next?