I’m leaving tomorrow. For the residency in Berlin. I came to say goodbye.
[CLARA walks to a large grandfather clock in the corner. It is silent.]
I’m not going there to fix gears. I’m going to paint. I’m going to move. Everything in this room just... repeats. 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.
(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. I’m leaving tomorrow
And now it’s in a box. In a shop. In a town where nothing happens.
A dusty clock repair shop. The walls are covered in ticking timepieces. Time: Late afternoon. Golden light cuts through the dust. [SCENE START] [CLARA walks to a large grandfather clock in the corner
(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.