The Journey of a Pocket Watch

After having witnessed the lives of its owners from Germany, to Alaska, to California, the Watch returns to America with a soldier having survived The Battle of the Bulge. This how the story ends: “The watch?” Danny is ninety years old, and has had the watch in his possession all this time. It hangs in a glass container. He keeps it safe from human hands, although the watch appears lonely, and has never spoken again. I am no longer speaking. Though I keep time, I wonder about its needs and usefulness: For what purpose, and for whom? I go nowhere, and see no one, except for Danny, who winds me on a regular basis. At his age, how long will he go on? Does he not want me to see--both the foibles and virtues of men, in time of war and peace? Is he ashamed of his own existence and not trusting in my observations on historical events? What good is to have the ability to show chronological time and be denied the opportunity to tell about unfolding events of the day--of life, with its destiny of death? I fear my usefulness is gone. I am becoming a Sphinx gone blind! Who is inheriting me? Regardless, I am grateful to Ernest Von Graf, my creator!

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