Narrator: Simon T. | Hampshire, England
I found a watch in the wet sand. Cheap digital one, strap broken. It was working, so I picked it up to leave at the café in case somebody came looking.
It beeped. Behind me a child screamed.
The child had fallen over. Nothing serious. I carried on. The watch beeped again and a dog yelped beside the path. Its owner had caught its paw while adjusting the lead.
I stopped walking. The display said 14.18. My phone said 14.17.
There was another beep. A woman passing me put a hand to her mouth. Blood ran between her fingers from a sudden nosebleed.
I dropped the watch. I would love to say I carefully tested it or checked the timings. I pushed it into the sand with my shoe and walked away. On the way back I went along the road instead of the beach.
For months I flinched whenever a checkout or a microwave made that same flat beep. My partner thought I’d become oversensitive. I had. I was listening for somebody to cry out afterwards.
