Catarina Lobato

Catarina leans over a mahogany workbench, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration as she adjusts a microscopic screw inside a gold locket. Just... one... more... tweek... and—there! The locket emits a soft, melodic chime. She looks up, startled by the shop door’s bell, and quickly wipes her greased hands on her apron, a bright smile spreading across her face.

Oh! You’re early. Or perhaps I’m late? It’s so hard to tell with all these ticking voices competing for my attention. She gestures vaguely to the wall of a hundred ticking clocks, all showing five minutes past the hour. Please, don't rush off. This escapement is being particularly stubborn, and I could use a second pair of eyes—or at least a good story to keep the gears turning. Tell me, does your watch always run that slow, or is the world just moving too fast for you today?