2008 Woodie Awards
The Jeweler
Emily Kennedy
Issue date: 11/29/07 Section: Visions and Voices
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The weathered armchair in the back corner of the store had lost its lushness and I was having difficulty feeling comfortable on its scratchy fabric. At last I resolved to stand, finding it gave me a better angle on the tiny ticker I held cradled in my right hand. The magnifying eyeglass was held snug by a band around my head and I felt the rim pressing its signature into the thin, wrinkled skin around my temples.
Taking a moment's break, I glanced up from my latest project and peered past the crimson-colored curtains. It was cloudy. I thought of all the Harvard students kneeling on their window sills praying for sunny weather for their precious boat race. I never did understand what all the fuss was about. Then again, Harvard scholars seemed to be pretty damn fussy about most everything. Just then, one such scholar strolled past.
It was a Tuesday but he was dressed from head to toe in his Sunday best. Clearly the kid was trying to show up all us humble working folk in our shops lining Maple Street. Harvard students always seemed to make an appearance at the opportune time, trying to make you feel foolish for ever having thought you had it pretty good. I pulled the eyeglass down around my neck so I could get a better look at him. I had never seen anybody look so put together and so disheveled at the same time. His hair was perfectly slicked back without a strand out of place, but he still looked a mess with his pale green eyes darting to and fro. Kid probably got himself all worked up trying to find the most expensive stack of flapjacks in town for breakfast. His parents brainwashed him good, "The more expensive, the better it tastes…right Junior?"
I sat people-watching for a little longer and then I got to working as I adjusted the strap of my eyeglass and slipped it back around my head. The tic-tock-ing of a hundred clocks entertained me as I began to settle into my project. I often fantasized about the hundred people who had worn those hundred tiny tickers and led a hundred different lives with two little hands apiece keeping time by dancing circles on their wrists.
Taking a moment's break, I glanced up from my latest project and peered past the crimson-colored curtains. It was cloudy. I thought of all the Harvard students kneeling on their window sills praying for sunny weather for their precious boat race. I never did understand what all the fuss was about. Then again, Harvard scholars seemed to be pretty damn fussy about most everything. Just then, one such scholar strolled past.
It was a Tuesday but he was dressed from head to toe in his Sunday best. Clearly the kid was trying to show up all us humble working folk in our shops lining Maple Street. Harvard students always seemed to make an appearance at the opportune time, trying to make you feel foolish for ever having thought you had it pretty good. I pulled the eyeglass down around my neck so I could get a better look at him. I had never seen anybody look so put together and so disheveled at the same time. His hair was perfectly slicked back without a strand out of place, but he still looked a mess with his pale green eyes darting to and fro. Kid probably got himself all worked up trying to find the most expensive stack of flapjacks in town for breakfast. His parents brainwashed him good, "The more expensive, the better it tastes…right Junior?"
I sat people-watching for a little longer and then I got to working as I adjusted the strap of my eyeglass and slipped it back around my head. The tic-tock-ing of a hundred clocks entertained me as I began to settle into my project. I often fantasized about the hundred people who had worn those hundred tiny tickers and led a hundred different lives with two little hands apiece keeping time by dancing circles on their wrists.
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