Annoy

"Toby," Elias said, turning slowly in his swivel chair. "Do you know what 'annoy' means?"

"Almost, Mr. E!" Toby chirped, followed by a wet, clicking sound as he popped a piece of gum. "Just making sure I get into the nooks. And the crannies. Can't forget the crannies." Snap.

The hairspring, a coil thinner than a human eyelash, had Ping-Ponged out of the tweezers and vanished into the shag carpet. Elias sat frozen. The annoyance he had been carefully tamping down suddenly flared into a cold, white heat. "Toby," Elias said, turning slowly in his swivel chair

Elias gripped his tweezers tighter. Focus, he told himself. He lowered the hairspring into place. Wheeze-puff. Wheeze-puff.

Toby stopped mid-whistle, his cleaning rag frozen. "Uh, like when my sister hides my phone?" "Just making sure I get into the nooks

It wasn't a melody; it was a rhythmic, airy wheeze-puff that seemed to emanate from the next room where his new apprentice, Toby, was ostensibly cleaning the workbench. It was the kind of sound that didn't just reach the ears; it vibrated against the teeth.

He had only been searching for five minutes when a small, rhythmic sound started up from the street outside. A car was idling, its bass-heavy music thumping a single, repetitive note that shook the very glass of his storefront. The hairspring, a coil thinner than a human

Elias put his forehead against the floor. Some days, the world was just one giant, persistent itch.