two feet above the tabletop.
Following the clock on its upward path, Landon’s eyes moved up in their sockets as his head tilted backward. The clock hung there, suspended above their heads, and then in an instant, as if a silent bomb had exploded, the clock burst apart.
To avoid the onslaught of debris and shrapnel, Landon instinctively shut his eyes and turned away, shielding himself, but nothing hit him. He waited a few moments, still unsure if it was safe to lower his guard, but the dead silence made him curious. He cracked his eyelids and looked around, but he never expected what he saw.
The clock itself was nowhere to be seen, but its individual parts were scattered throughout the office. Each component suspended in the air, floating peacefully. Landon rose slowly from his chair to get a better look around. The gears, cogs, pins and crystals were everywhere around him, but seemingly undamaged. Landon looked over to Dr. Brighton, who had also risen to his feet and was walking around his desk. His head moved as he took in each piece of the clock hanging around him.
As he reached out to touch a small gear, he began to speak. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? Man has no control over time. It merely passes us by and drives us to our inevitable deaths, yet we fight so hard to capture it.” Dr. Brighton continued to saunter around the office as he looked at the parts with a sense of wonderment in his eyes. “It takes every one of these parts, perfectly calibrated, to bottle just the measurement of time. People fight for power, for riches. They build guns and weapons believing those are what makes them invincible, yet none of them realize they are slaves to time. . . . Ah ha!”
Dr. Brighton stopped dead in his tracks. Landon intently watched him, waiting to understand what his professor had seen. Delicately, Dr. Brighton extended his hand into the air and pinched an empty space above him. Landon found himself questioning the sanity of his teacher. After the tips of Dr. Brighton’s index finger and thumb closed around the invisible object, he pulled his hand to his chest, walked back to his seat, and sat down.
Then, looking to fall asleep, Dr. Brighton shut his eyes before raising his head slightly as if he was concentrating on something. Landon watched as all the components of the clock—the dial, the gears, the pins, the needles, even the wooden boards of its frame—pulled in toward an invisible point on the desk. It reminded Landon of stars and planets being drawn into a black hole, but rather than disappearing into a massive circle of darkness, the pieces clinked and clanked until the clock, fully reformed, laid on Dr. Brighton’s desk. The subtle ticking of the working timepiece could be heard again.
Landon sat in awe, his mouth hanging open as he stared in wonderment at the clock.
“That was amazing!” he shouted excitedly.
“Thank you, but I’m more excited that I found the source of the problem.” Dr. Brighton held up his hand, his fingers still pinched together.
“What is it?”
“It’s actually just a speck of sand.” Dr. Brighton shook his head slightly. “It still baffles me that something so trivial can completely throw off the entire system.” The professor released his fingers. Landon watched for the sand to fall onto the tabletop, but it was too small for him to see. “Well, I’m exhausted,” Dr. Brighton continued, sounding spent. “I’ve been at this for hours. I believe it’s time for bed. You should do the same, Landon.”
Dr. Brighton stood up and telekinetically pulled the clock into his arms. Landon followed suit and stood up, waiting to leave the office with his professor.
“Oh, just because I’m curious,” Dr. Brighton started again as he stepped around the desk. “This extracurricular project you’re working on, what’s it about?”
“Oh, I’ve just been researching Artemis. You know, the Greek goddess?”
Dr. Brighton straightened suddenly and turned on his heels. He looked Landon dead in the eyes while he tightly clutched the clock in his hands.
“Where did you hear that name?” he asked sternly.
Landon felt a chill roll down his spine as a wave of awkward energy passed through him. He instantly regreted telling Dr. Brighton the truth.
“I overheard someone in the hallway. Why?” he replied nervously. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Of course not.” Landon watched as Dr. Brighton appeared to relax a bit. “But if you want my opinion, I think you should be spending your