Caught in Eternity

It was January, and he found himself at the beach again. He could not remember why he was there but there he was, along with the waves and sands between his toes. Almost staggering, he walked down the beach, barefooted and his eyes caught the sight of it.

He picked up a watch at the beach. It glimmered between the sands, near the little holes that crabs dig every morning. The strap was old-fashionedly dark brown, with little diamonds around the numbers. Four diamonds, in fact. It was shining brightly, that he stood there for quite a while, ignoring every person who must have walked by.

“It was begging to be taken home,” he justified now and then.

As soon as he got home - a tiny studio apartment in the middle of the city, he grabbed a screwdriver and tried breaking it apart. It failed multiple times and he would later try it again when he became desperate for money.

Aside from picking up food and groceries, he had never left the house. Freelancing has always been a lonely, poor job. He would stay in the house, a whole depression mess, and rip out the calendar on his wall by months. He got fewer gigs every time a page from the calendar was ripped, tried breaking the watch apart to pay rent, and had always failed.

His rent, for some reason, was always paid, rather right on time. Every time the rent was due, he would always get a high-paying gig and it would always be enough for rent and for him to survive another month. He repeated the same routine every single month, flying through the pages of the calendar - ripping the calendar, penniless, breaking watch apart, high paying gig, paid rent, groceries and ripping the calendar.

The calendar continued to be ripped and there.

It was January, and he found himself at the beach again. He could not remember why he was there but there he was, along with the waves and sands between his toes. Almost staggering, he walked down the beach, barefooted and his eyes caught the sight of it.

He picked up a watch at the beach. It glimmered between the sands, near the little holes the crabs dig every morning. The strap was old-fashionedly dark brown, with little diamonds around the numbers. Four diamonds, in fact. It was shining brightly, that he stood there for quite a while, ignoring every person who must have walked by.

“It was begging to be taken home,” he justified…now and then.