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Randolph Walker was a quiet man. 45 years old. No wife. No kids. Lived a pretty listless life, except for his very ridged time schedule. He would wake up at 6 am, and stretch for about a minute. The coffee maker was set to turn on at 6:05, at which time he knew it would take about five minutes, so he'd get a quick shower, get out, dry off, get dressed, and put on his favorite watch, an old Waltham pocket watch, by the time the last bit had been poured. After a few cups of coffee, he'd make a sandwich, bag it, and, checking his watch and winding it, was out the door to catch the bus at the bus stop by 6:30. The bus would pick him, and he would be at work at the antique shop, Hidden Gems, he worked at by 7.

Mr. Randal, the shop owner, would have the door unlocked by this time, and Randolph would walk in and turn the sign around to OPEN. "Mornin' Walker," the old man would say shuffling to the back. "Good morning Mr. Randal," he'd say walking behind the counter. At 11:30 he would eat his sandwich on the bench in front of the store, listening to the birds it being Spring time and hoping to catch a glimpse of Heather, a woman his age who worked at the shoe store two doors down. She was remarkable he thought to himself watching her as she'd set out shoes to be displayed. Long brown hair, great smile, and beautiful eyes.. but they'd never said more than ten words to each other in the four years she worked at the shoe store. Looking at his watch, he'd walk back in the store at 11:55.

At 2:45 he'd wind his watch again and check the store for anyone who might still be looking for something. By 3 he would turn the sign back to CLOSED, lock the door, and help the old man in the back part of the shop if there was anything that needed done, which usually wasn't much. By 3:15 he was waiting on the bus which would show up at 3:18. He'd take the short ride to his home and at 4:45 was making his dinner which consisted on a can of soup and some crackers. At 6 he would watch the news, and then read til 9 when he would get ready for bed. He had this same schedule for 15 years.

One day as he was getting ready to go to work as usual he looked at his pocket watch and noticed it wasn't working. He wound it and nothing happened. Shook it and nothing. Waves of fear and paranoia coursed through his body. How would he know the time? If he went off the clock in the square, would it be right? It might not be set right, or could be off! Maybe Mr. Randal would know what to do he thought. Walking

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