The whistling of evening birds faded, replaced by the distant cries of owls as Alice fumbled through her bag in a quiet panic.“Oh no, please be there… please!” she muttered desperately, digging through the final pocket of her large bag.Just as hope seemed lost, her fingers brushed against something cool and smooth—there it was: a perfectly round ball, silver and copper in color, with a hole through the center and mysterious mechanisms embedded inside.

  A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she turned toward the writing desk in her room.She studied it for a moment, thinking carefully, then pulled out a piece of paper and began doodling. Within minutes, she had sketched a vision: transforming the simple wooden desk into a proper workbench.

  She had, of course, asked Roland beforehand if she could modify the furniture. He not only agreed, but also provided her with spare wood and screws to make the setup more adaptable.

  After hours of hard work, it was finished.A slanted bench with a wide working area, tool holders, a second drawer, and even a focusing lens embedded at the center.Proud of her creation, Alice treated herself to a well-deserved coffee—and without a moment’s pause, began working deep into the night.

  Nick woke up later than usual; the events of the previous evening had clearly taken a toll on him.After a quick shower and a change of clothes, he headed downstairs. But when he didn’t see Alice chatting with Roland like she normally did, he grew curious and walked to her room.

  He knocked. No answer.Carefully, he pushed the door open—only to freeze in surprise.

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  Alice was slumped over a makeshift workbench, fast asleep. A screwdriver rested loosely in one hand, the strange metal ball in the other.Nick stepped in quietly and tried to wake her, but she didn’t stir. The coffee beside her was only half-finished, and judging from the scattered tools and open blueprints, she had worked herself into complete exhaustion.

  Sighing softly, Nick decided that everything else could wait. He gently carried her to the bed.As he tucked her in, she murmured something half-coherent:“Just a few more twitches... then it’ll surely work...”Nick smiled to himself, amused by the comment and her worn-out state, barely managing to stifle a laugh.

  Afterward, he made his way downstairs and enjoyed the lovely breakfast Roland had prepared. With a warm cup of tea in hand, he stepped outside into the crisp morning.

  Birds soared through the clear sky while others perched nearby, singing their soft love songs.Nick took it all in, sipping his tea slowly. The peacefulness of it all—the breeze, the birds, the quiet—filled him with a kind of happiness he hadn’t felt in a long while.

  After thirty minutes of calm, he inhaled deeply, finished the last sip of tea, and stepped back inside.

  “Roland,” he asked, “does the old antiquities shop still exist?”

  “Sadly, no,” Roland replied. “But there are a few new places that might interest you. What are you looking for?”

  “I’m after a pair of old clockmaker’s glasses. The kind made from bronze, with all the interchangeable magnifying lenses,” Nick said, lost in thought.

  “A gift for Alice?” Roland asked, grinning.

  “Exactly. She could really use something like that.”

  “Don’t worry. There’s a fine clock shop on Scinthy Street now. They might have a pair—or at least know someone who does.”

  So Nick set off for the clock shop, the morning sun warming the cobblestones beneath his feet.