The Hour and Minute Hand

The Hour and Minute Hand

by: Catherine Ream

The sun rose behind Georginton Valley, glossing the sky with luminous colors. Today wasn’t an ordinary day for it was the annual Georginton Valley Regency Fair. The event that our small town is most well known for and caters towards quite the crowd. One year, however, distinguishes itself amongst the others; this is where our story proceeds.

This year, I was twenty and an aspiring fashion designer so to answer your question, I created my dress of which I spent months on. I constructed a classic chemise dress with a scoop neckline which co-existed with squared folds that lay like frosting on a cake. I was a baker in my kitchen whipping a production of needles and threads. The whole dress was lilac purple that reached a few inches below the knee, with a violet ribbon wrapped around the waist and tied up in a bow in the back. Similar to a young flower blooming on the first day of spring, my true self was blossoming. The undergarments created the hourglass shape but unlike an hourglass, I was not losing time for whenever I was in my element time froze, and not a single person could snatch that way. The citrine-yellow shoes with brown laces sat a bit above the ankle and the straw hat contained lilac and violet flowers to accompany the dress. The small, delicate parasol looked as if it was carefully spooled by a spider and the hand gloves were as white as a bunny. I marveled at my work and how marvelous my white manikin appeared.

I was forced against my will to conjure a dress for my stubborn sixteen-year-old sister Lilith. Her dress was the same as mine with the exception of the colors, hers being a bright bumblebee-yellow and a fire-yellow ribbon. Another difference was Lilith’s included a fan instead of a parasol.

“Why must I go to this dorky fair?” Lilith moaned while I styled her coconut-brown hair to be regency-era curly.

“Because I spent months preparing your dress. The least you can do is show gratitude.” I was tempted to ignite her hair with the curling iron but refrained, aware of mothers reaction.

“Have a thrilling time!” Mother wished. Lilith rolled her eyes as we whisked out the door.

This year's crowd was its usual size and most people ordered tacky, inaccurate but expensive dresses online. Others mistook this event for a fantasy fair and sported elf and fairy outfits.

Lilith and I arrived at the table that sells real antiques from the era and I always make a purchase. An object stood out to me the moment it caught my eye. It was half of a silver pocket watch. Yes, you heard me correctly and not a gear spilled out its side. The watch began with half of the twelve Roman numeral (II) and concluded with half of the six Roman numeral. The broken, black minute hand firmly pointed to the four like a saluting soldier. The worn glass cover protected the dainty antique while the silver chain lay gracefully on the table. Lilith and I were the same amount of confused.

“Excuse me, where is the other half of the pocket watch?” I asked the old man who processed more wrinkles than an unfolded blanket running the stand.

“Its location remains unknown,” the old man stated mysteriously. I handed him my cash and we stepped out of the developing line behind us.

“This is quite the plight you’ve gotten us into Aella! Why did you exchange my beloved necklace to an untrustworthy fortune teller for half a pocket watch and get us trapped in the future!?” A nearby, young female voice raged.

“I don’t want to get married, Isabella! Throw my life in a blaze for some man; after all, I didn't think the trade would actually succeed!” A different female voice sounded a little younger than the first insisted.

Lilith and I turned around to see two girls, one who appeared to be my age with the name Isabella was wearing a spitting image of my dress rather hers was white with a gray ribbon. The second girl, Aella, was shorter than Isabella and reminded me of rebellious Lilith. Her dress was black as if she were in mourning and her gloved hands somehow held the other half of the watch.

“I tossed my life away a few years ago, you can certainly do the same!” Isabella took her sister's empty hand.

“But I can’t!” Aella was on the brink of sobbing. Their bickering reminded me of Lilith and I’s numerous fights throughout the years.

That's when the two of them noticed us as if there was no gigantic crowd at all. Compelled to talk to each other, the four of us left the fair, walking to an open, fresh grassy field.

“Your dresses… and the other half of the watch did you time travel too?” Aella wondered.

“N-no I just found this watch and every stitch was completed by me.” I took pride.

“Well your husband must make quite the living, those fabrics are gorgeous!” Isabella observed.

“We aren’t married,” Lilith cleared up which made Aellas face light up with a smile but it faded quicker than a cheetah bounding across the Sahara.

“Oh sister, I am sorry I didn’t mean to send us here!” Aella cried and Isabella held her in her arms.

“I apologize for being rude when you spent months on these gowns and they are absolutely stunning.” Lilith apologized to me for the first time.

“Wait, connect your pocket watch to ours,” I conjured a random idea. Without hesitation, the sisters held out their watch, the black hour hand was pointing to the Roman numeral nine.

In putting the watches together, tethering two points in time, the sisters vanished back into their era taking the watch with them.

Despite being from completely different eras of time, the bond between sisters remains the same. Although assigned to different tasks, the hour and minute hand on a watch will always remain connected.

The End.