7.2 210 Drama -

The stage is filled with the rhythmic, polyphonic ticking of dozens of clocks. ELIAS sits at a workbench, a jeweler’s loupe pressed to his eye. He is working on a delicate gold pocket watch. CLARA stands by the door, holding a messenger bag.

(Without looking up)You’re breathing too loud, Clara. It throws off the balance. 7.2 210 Drama

(Steps forward, floorboards creak)It’s been three years, Grandpa. The air in here is the same dust from when I was ten. ELIAS Dust is just time that’s settled. Leave it be. The stage is filled with the rhythmic, polyphonic

(Slamming a small screwdriver onto the bench)Repetition is precision! You think your "art" is better because it’s messy? This watch belonged to a man who crossed the Atlantic. It kept his pulse when everything else was sinking. CLARA stands by the door, holding a messenger bag

[CLARA walks to a large grandfather clock in the corner. It is silent.]

I’m leaving tomorrow. For the residency in Berlin. I came to say goodbye.

I’m not going there to fix gears. I’m going to paint. I’m going to move. Everything in this room just... repeats.