The lost watch was on Phil’s wrist. Unbelievable. It had been there all along. She spread her fingers on the trackpad to enlarge the image. The same tan-coloured leather strap, the same creamy iridescence fanned out from the centre of the dial. Carmel remembered the way he used to dangle it into her small hand in the evening. The way the milled steel held the concentrated warmth of his skin, while the glass on the other side stayed cool. When she set it against her ear, there was a tiny churning before each tick : Nearly. Now. Nearly. Now. And. Yes. The mechanism was delicate and relentless.
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