The Watchmaker - Reema Cverty (i read a book .txt) 📗

my life. It was the same Rolex that was stuck at seven, stained with blood, that I had in my bag when I was crossing over to Mestre from Venice. However, it seemed to be working well. The dial was still red, but I remembered that the purse that I had put it in had a cheap red suede lining inside and the rain must have caused the color to run, for my backpack was soaking wet when I got to Mestre. “You took this to the watchmaker to get it repaired?” I asked.
He smiled a strange smile. His eyes developed the same ghostly gleam as I had beheld on the freedom bridge years ago. Fear crept into my veins. “Cara ,” he said in a strange husky voice, “I was a watchmaker back in Venice.”

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Publication Date: 11-05-2011

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Dedication:
Rishi rich.