For months the woodworker spent most of the time in his workshop building a Grandfather clock. He made the case from the rarest hardwoods he could find. Everyday woods like Mahogany or Cherry just wouldn’t do, he found rarer species like Bubinga, Ebony, and Rosewood.
He wanted to keep the clock movements clean, so he only ordered it when he started to put the final coats of varnish on the woodwork. And so the magic day came when the actual clock would be delivered. His anticipation level was at a high, while he polished the last coat of finish. Lunch was really not on his mind, but his wife made him take a few minutes to eat, “It’ll be here soon, so just relax and wait.”
He’d looked out the front door every time he heard a truck within a block of the house, but still nothing for him. It was mid-afternoon when a strange sound was getting louder and louder, definitely not a truck, more like a small motorcycle.
Then it appeared, a large quad-copter, a drone with a box slung under the body. It hovered a couple hunderd feet over his front yard, then the thing let the box just drop to the ground. It bounded a few times before coming to rest, the box was in shambles.
As the woodworker opened the box he let out a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush. The clock that should have fit into his masterpiece was nothing but a pile of gears, most of them bent beyond repair. And the delivery drone was beating a hasty retreat.
Each week a photo is used, donated by one of the participants of Sunday Photo Fiction, and the idea is to write a story with the photo as a prompt in around 200 words.
This week’s photo is Photo © Jade M Wong Thanks Jade.
Yes it’s a bit longer but I was just too verbose and had a hard time keeping it as short as I did. Sorry.