(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.
(Without looking up)You’re breathing too loud, Clara. It throws off the balance.
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. 7.2 210 Drama
I’m leaving tomorrow. For the residency in Berlin. I came to say goodbye.
[ELIAS freezes. He slowly removes the loupe and looks at the pocket watch, not her.] Berlin. They have clocks there, I suppose. (Slamming a small screwdriver onto the bench)Repetition is
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] It kept his pulse when everything else was sinking
(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.