The Clock

I am a little late this week but this is part of  Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields . She also took the photo for this week’s prompt. Thanks Rochelle.

“The clock is the only thing I grabbed before we fled. My father gave it to me for my 21st birthday.” Margaret wiped away a tear “I had to sell it when we came to this country so I could buy food for myself and my sister.”

“I know,” Bryce said. He took out a handkerchief and dried her eyes gently. “Remember, I first met you going into the Pawn shop. That’s when I fell in love with you.” He reached into his briefcase and took out the clock. “Regard it as an engagement present. Please will you marry me?”

100 words

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