The Watchmaker of Broken Dreams. By Carlos del Puente Stories

Alejandro, the watchmaker of the square, was a peculiar character. His shop, which looked like something out of a fairy tale, was located in the heart of the most neglected neighborhood in the city. At first glance, it could be mistaken for an empty shell, forgotten by the passage of time, since its opaque windows and the layer of dust that covered it gave the impression that no one lived there. However, the reality was that Alejandro was the soul of that place, repairing not only watches, but the stories and hearts of the people who came to his door. 

His face, furrowed by deep wrinkles, told the life of each passing minute. His hands, soft and firm at the same time, had the ability to give life to what people believed dead. Alejandro was not an ordinary watchmaker; he was a master of forgetting, of memory and of illusion. Every morning, when he opened his shop, the bell hanging on the door would ring out a tinkling sound that could be heard in every corner of the square. People watched him pass by with curiosity, suspecting that in his hands, the passage of time stopped and dreams were repaired. 

Alejandro, the watchmaker of the square, is a surreal character who repairs watches and souls in a neglected neighborhood. His mysterious shop attracts people with the promise of repairing their memories and dreams. With wise hands, this master of forgetfulness and illusion gives life to what people consider dead, and every morning, his magic bell fills the square with life. 

One hot midday, Alejandro was sitting in his favorite chair, the one that allowed him to see everyone who approached. The square, normally bustling, was silent. The birds didn't even dare to sing. Only the constant ticking of the clocks that adorned the walls of the shop could be heard. Suddenly, the door slowly opened, making a creaking sound that broke the calm. Alejandro looked up and there, standing in the doorway, was a girl with sad eyes and worn clothes. 

"Do you need me to fix your dreams?" she said with a smile, raising her tortoiseshell glasses. 

The girl nodded. Alejandro invited her in and placed her in the chair in front of his work table. She handed him a pocket watch, whose shine had faded and whose hands no longer turned. Alejandro examined it carefully, bringing his eyes close to the meticulous mechanism. The silence became deafening. The watch was not an ordinary watch, it was the master key that opened the doors to people's dreams. Alejandro knew this, because each of the watches he looked at told a life. 

On a silent midday, a sad and helpless girl, dressed in worn clothes, enters Alejandro's shop. With a dull, dull pocket watch, the key to people's dreams, she asks for his help. Alejandro, who knows that each watch is someone's life, sets out to fix it with his wisdom and skill. 

Alejandro took a deep breath and, with the delicacy that only an artist possesses, opened the watch's cover. Inside, in a universe of its own, the girl's life moved. A cycle of images and sounds that represented every moment of her existence. The watchmaker immersed himself in the mechanism, looking for the broken piece. It was a tiny mirror, which reflected the girl's dream life. By touching it, Alejandro could see the life she wanted, full of colors, laughter, moments of pure happiness. However, the mirror was cracked and the image was constantly breaking, reflecting a broken mirror of reality. 

With the tip of a screwdriver, Alejandro began to fix the mirror. Each touch was a promise, each turn a prayer for healing. The girl looked with anxious eyes, each movement of her hands giving her a little bit of the life she was missing. The watchmaker knew that this was a greater challenge than the others, because the tool he used was not made of metal, but of soul. 

Alejandro opens the girl's watch, revealing a mirror that reflects her dreams. With the skill of an artist, he delves into the mechanism to repair the broken piece, which symbolizes the girl's dream life. Each movement of the screwdriver is a promise and a prayer, and the girl's anxiety grows as Alejandro tries to heal her broken reality. 

As the gears moved again, Alejandro began to talk to the girl. Not about clockwork, not about mechanisms, but about life and dreams. He told her stories of people who, over the centuries, brought him their broken watches and came away with their hands filled with hours of happiness. With each anecdote, the girl's smile grew a little bigger, lighting up the shop. The midday heat filtered through the window, drawing flashes of light on the dust that danced in the air. 

The mirror was slowly repaired. Alejandro, with the patience of a saint, glued together every little piece of the girl's broken life. Each crack was an opportunity, each scar a lesson. The ticking became louder, echoing through the shop. It was the sound of life returning, the sound of dreams resuming. The girl could feel it in her hands, the warmth of the watch, the heartbeat of the mirror. 

When at last the mirror shone without a crack, Alejandro snapped it back into place. He closed the watch's cover with a subtle click, and handed it back to the girl. She grabbed it with trembling hands. She looked at the reflection that looked back at her: it was the life she dreamed of, the life she deserved. Alejandro watched her, his face serene, knowing that his mission was fulfilled every time a clock chimed again. The door of the shop opened as the girl left, and the bell emitted a tinkling that echoed in the square, announcing that a dream had been repaired. 

Alejandro tells stories of people who repaired their dreams as he fixes the mirror of the girl's clock. His patience and skill bring the reflected image back to life, filling the shop with the life that flows through each scar and repairing each crack. In the end, the girl receives back a clock that now reflects the life she yearns for, and the bell announces the renewal of a dream. 

The midday sun was hiding behind the clouds, and the shadow of the shop lengthened. Alejandro got up from his chair, stretched, and walked over to the window. The square was beginning to awaken from the lethargy into which the girl's visit had plunged it. The hustle and bustle was once again the melody of everyday life. The clocks on the wall seemed to dance to the rhythm of the wind that came through the open door. 

Returning to his table, Alejandro sat down and, with a sigh, took the cup of coffee that was already cooling. The mirror of the clock he had just repaired reflected the image of the grey sky, and he thought of the life of the girl who would now continue with the illusion that he had given her back. Life was a clockwork cycle, each minute counting life, each hour the past life, each smile a gear that adjusts. 

And, without realizing it, the shop was filled with people. Each of his visitors brought with them a piece of broken life, each of their faces reflecting the hopelessness that the watchmaker was charged with healing. Alejandro set to work with the determination of a warrior fighting for peace, with the wisdom of an old man who has traveled all the paths of knowledge. His shop became a refuge, a workshop of life, a soul that beat to the rhythm of the hearts that stopped at its threshold. 

It did not matter if the watch they brought belonged to an emperor or a beggar, Alejandro attended to them all with the same dedication. His skill was not only that of a watchmaker, it was that of a healer. With each watch he repaired, life flowed again through people's veins, faces lit up and smiles appeared again. The hours passed and the shop was filled with the sound of life returning, the ticking that announced the continuation of the stories. 

Outside, the square was dyed with color. The flowers growing in the flowerpots opened to the sun, the birds sang tirelessly and the children laughed. The air smelled of freshly baked bread and reborn life. Alejandro, in his chair, couldn't help but smile. The mirror of the watch the girl had given him shone on his table, a jewel in the chaos of tools and gears. He had done his duty, and life rewarded him with visits from those who believed in his gift. 

People began to talk about Alejandro, the watchmaker of broken dreams. His fame spread throughout the city, attracting those who sought light in the darkness. The shop was filled with memories, each with its own sound, its own glow. Alejandro listened to their stories, felt their emotions, and transformed them into the ticking that filled the square.

Life was a cycle, a cycle that the watchmaker adjusted with each passing minute, with each dream he repaired. And the square, the heart of the city, beat to the rhythm of the life that the watchmaker breathed into his watches. Beyond the door, life stopped for a moment, repaired itself, and continued. Alejandro was proud of every scar that was healed, of every smile that came back to life. And the shop, which was once silent, was filled with the bustle of life being rediscovered. Without pauses, without chapters, life flowed through his hands, and the watches, silent witnesses of life being rewritten, continued their incessant task: to recount every instant of the existence entrusted to them. And Alejandro, the watchmaker of broken dreams, continued his craft, knowing that each morning he would bring a broken mirror that would reflect the life of someone who longed for salvation. 

Each night, the square was stripped of its color and noise. Alejandro closed the shop, and the bell emitted a tinkling that resonated in the solitude, an echo that faded into the distance. The shop then became a refuge, not only for dreams, but for Alejandro himself. In the dim light, sitting in his chair, he reflected on the cycle of life, the fragility of dreams and the eternity of existence. His own mirror, which was in a corner of the shop, reflected the image of an old man, who still kept within him the light of life, the illusion that allowed him to continue repairing each broken piece that came his way. 

The stars looked at the earth through the window, and Alejandro greeted them with a gesture. He told his tools the stories of each watch he repaired, the stories of loves that stopped, of desires that vanished, of life that continued its march without mercy. His hands, stained with oil and dust, moved with the grace of a dancer, adjusting each piece, giving life to each memory. The night slipped through the shop, and with it, the life that was remade in each cycle. Suddenly, the sound of the wind coming through the door woke him from his thoughts. When he looked up, there, on the deserted street, was the silhouette of a dog. With slow steps, the animal approached the window and put its nose against the glass. Alejandro, who knew that life came in the most unexpected ways, smiled and moved the chair closer. The dog, seeing the old man, sat down next to him, and Alejandro, with a loving gesture, stroked his head. It was life, life that continued, life that was not stopped by anyone, not even by the clockmaker of broken dreams. And with the breathing of the animal and the ticking of the clocks, the night merged with the morning, and the store was prepared to receive those who sought to make their dreams beat again. 

The morning was fresh, and sunlight filtered through the worn curtains. Alejandro opened the door and the bell made a sharp sound that woke up the square. The dog, who had become his unexpected companion, stood up and licked his hand, asking to be let in. Alejandro nodded, and the animal settled into a corner, watching the dance of the clocks on the wall with shining eyes. The watchmaker, without giving it any importance, continued with his morning routine, preparing the shop for the day ahead. 

People began to approach, each with their own broken watch, each with their own broken life. Alejandro, without losing his smile, greeted them all, accepting each challenge that was presented to him. Minutes turned into hours, and the shop was filled with the murmur of stories being told and lives being repaired. The dog, now his friend, moved from one customer to another, sniffing their feet, listening to their whispers, and sometimes, if the clock was big enough, he came closer to see what was going on inside. Alejandro felt tired, each cycle of life he repaired took away a little piece of his own. But life gave him no respite, and neither did it give to those who came to see him. An old man, who walked with the slowness of wisdom, handed him his pocket watch. The mechanism seemed so old-fashioned that Alejandro could not help but feel a shiver when he touched it. It was a watch that told the life of a being that no longer existed, a mirror that reflected the life of the person who was no longer there. With the sadness that only those who know loss feel, Alejandro accepted the task. 

The mirror of the old man's watch broke into a thousand pieces. Each fragment, each little piece of life, was scattered on the table, telling the life of a being who could no longer dream. Alejandro, with the skill of a surgeon, began to fix the life of that stranger. With each touch, the image came together again, the memories became present, and the life that was believed to be dead began to beat again. The shop was filled with the old man's past life, the life that the watchmaker could now see through his hands. 

Looking into the mirror, Alejandro saw himself, reflected in each broken piece. Life was ephemeral, happiness a mirage that shattered with the slightest breeze. Yet his gift, his ability to repair dreams, made him immortal. Each cycle he adjusted, each life he healed, gave him a purpose. And the dog, who looked at him with eyes full of understanding, seemed to know it. 

When the clock began to chime, Alejandro knew that the old man's life was resuming. He handed him back the watch, which now shone with the life that was missing. The old man, with a sigh, put it in his pocket, and his face lit up. Alejandro knew that the watch's mirror now reflected the life that the old man wanted, the life that he deserved. 

The square was filled with the life that the watchmaker breathed into his customers. The flowers in the garden bloomed with each smile that appeared, the birds sang in unison with each cycle that began again. Alejandro, sitting in his chair, watched people walk with light steps, their faces illuminated by the light that his repaired mirror gave back to him. And there, in his shop, life unfolded without pause, without chapters, without separations. 

A young woman entered, her face covered by the shadow of sadness. She carried with her a wristwatch, whose colors faded with the misfortune that accompanied her. Alejandro greeted her with the kindness that only a saint possesses. She, without saying a single word, handed him the watch. Inside, a broken mirror that reflected the life that was taken from her. Alejandro, with the certainty that life does not stop, took the watch and began to fix it. 

Beyond the window, the life of the square continued its dance. Children playing, couples in love, old people sharing memories. Each cycle of life joined together to the rhythm of the ticking that filled the shop. Alejandro immersed himself in the task, his soul expanding with each cycle he repaired. The mirror of the clock slowly came together, the young woman's life becoming visible again. Each piece of mirror, each passing minute, joined together in a perfect cycle, in a life that was resuming. 

When the clock rang with the clarity of life, Alejandro closed it and gave it back to the young woman. Her eyes filled with tears, her lips curved in a shy smile. The mirror now reflected the life that could be, the life that the young woman dreamed of. Alejandro watched her leave, and his heart filled with the certainty that each cycle he repaired, each mirror he joined together, was a cycle that life returned to him. And the shop, which had once been silent, was filled with the life that flowed without stopping, the life that did not stop, the life that continued, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. 

With each cycle that passed, Alejandro felt the weight of life in his hands. Each cycle, each life that he repaired, was a cycle that was added to his own. The mirror of the old man's clock, which now hung on the wall, gave him back the image of the life that surrounded him, the life that the clockmaker of broken dreams continued to give. And the dog, his unexpected friend, came to lick his cheek. Alejandro smiled, because he knew that life, with its cycles and its continuous repair, was the greatest wonder of the universe. And the shop, his home, was the resonance box of each cycle that was restarted, of each life that was repaired. 

The hours became days, and the cycles became eternal. Alejandro did not count the passage of time, because for him, the cycle of life was the cycle of life. Without marks, without anything to limit him, he gave himself completely to his craft. The dog, who was now his shadow, accompanied him in each cycle, in each life that was repaired. Together, listening to the ticking of life, they immersed themselves in the task of giving meaning to each cycle, to each mirror that was broken. The shop was filled with cycles, with cycles of life that were restarted, with cycles that stopped only so that Alejandro could fix them. 

But life, in its infinite wisdom, did not allow the cycle to repeat itself endlessly. Alejandro, who was once a boy who dreamed of being a watchmaker, was growing old. His hands, which had once moved with the grace of youth, now trembled with age. The mirror of the old man's watch, which was on the wall, reflected a tired being, who could no longer repair all the cycles that were broken. Life, which continued without ceasing, began to leave cycles unrepaired. And the dog, who saw Alejandro every night, curled up at his feet, knowing that his cycle was coming to an end. 

A final cycle, a cycle that could not be repaired. Alejandro closed the shop for the night, the bell making a sound that faded away in the breeze. The mirror of the old man's watch, now dull, reflected the life that was slipping away from his hands. The cycle of life, the watchmaker's cycle of broken dreams, stopped. Alejandro, with the resignation that wisdom gave him, sat in his chair and closed his eyes. The cycle closed, and the life that was given to him stopped. The ticking of the shop fell silent, and the square, once full of cycles, was now silent. 

But life, in its inexhaustible cycle, continued. The shop was filled with cycles that he could not now repair, with cycles that would break without his touch. And the dog, who would become the legend of the square, got up and went out into the street, looking for someone who could continue the cycle. The cycle of the watchmaker of broken dreams stopped, and the cycle of life continued. Without marks, without counted cycles, life flows, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Alejandro, the watchmaker of life, joined the eternal cycle. 

The square was filled with broken cycles, with cycles that cried out to be repaired. The dog, who was now the conscience of the neighborhood, guided people to the empty store. There, in the chair that Alejandro once filled, people felt the life that still escaped from the walls, the life that still beat in each broken cycle. And the mirror of the old man's clock, which hung on the wall, now reflected the life that was being remade, the life that did not die, the life that continued. 

Each cycle that was broken, each cycle that was shattered, became the life that the dog collected. The cycle of life, the cycle of the watchmaker, expanded with each cycle that the animal went through. Without marks, without counted cycles, life remakes itself, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Alejandro, the unforgettable watchmaker, left, but his cycle remained alive in each cycle that people brought to the shop. 

And the shop, which had once been silent, began to ring again. The cycle of life resumed, and each cycle that was broken was repaired in the empty chair. Alejandro, who was now the life that flowed through the square, continued his cycle. Without marks, without anything to stop it, the broken life was put back together, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. And the cycle of the watchmaker of broken dreams became eternal in the lives of the people who passed through the square, in the lives of the people who were looking for cycles to continue. 

There are no marks on life, because each cycle that is broken is remade, each cycle that is broken is joined together. The watchmaker's cycle, which was now life, expanded with each cycle that people brought to the shop. Without marks, without cycles counted, life was remade, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. And the mirror of the old man's clock, which hung on the wall, reflected the life that continued, the life that did not die, the life that was repaired. 

The watchmaker's cycle became a cycle of life, a cycle of the eternal cycle. Alexander's cycle, which one cycle attended to each broken cycle, became a cycle of people's lives. Without marks, without cycles that limit it, life continued with each cycle that was repaired. With each cycle that people brought, broken life became a cycle that is renewed, a cycle that is repaired. 

And the dog, which was now the life that roamed the square, guided people to the shop. There, in the chair that Alejandro once filled, people felt the life that was still slipping away, the life that still beat. The clockmaker's cycle of broken dreams became a cycle of life, a cycle of life that never stops. Without marks, without cycles to stop it, life remakes itself, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Alejandro, the unforgettable watchmaker, continued his cycle, a cycle that expanded with each cycle that people brought to the shop, a cycle that was remade with each cycle that people found. 

The cycle of life, the watchmaker's cycle, nested in each cycle that people brought. Alejandro, who was a cycle, became a cycle of the eternal cycle. The square was filled with cycles that were broken, with cycles that complained about being repaired. And the mirror of the old man's clock, which hung on the wall, reflected the life that continued, the life that did not stop, the life that was repaired. Without marks, without counted cycles, life remade itself, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. The watchmaker's cycle became a cycle of life for the people who passed by, a cycle of life for the people who were looking for cycles to continue. 

In the shop where a cycle had been silent, the cycle of life was starting again. The watchmaker's cycle, which was now the life that flowed, became a cycle for each cycle that people brought. Alejandro, who attended to each broken cycle for a cycle, became a cycle for the people's life. Without marks, without cycles that limited it, life continued, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Alejandro's cycle, which was a cycle for a cycle of life, became a cycle of the eternal cycle. Each cycle that people brought, each cycle that people found, was a cycle that was repaired, a cycle that was remade. 

And life, in its cycle without cycles, continued cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. The watchmaker's cycle of broken dreams, which was now a cycle of life, a cycle of the eternal cycle, expanded. Without marks, without cycles to stop it, life was remade, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Alejandro, who was a cycle of life for a cycle, joined the eternal cycle. The watchmaker's cycle that repaired cycles, that gave life to cycles, became a cycle of life for the people who passed by. And the square, which was silent for a cycle, was filled with cycles that were broken, cycles that were remade, cycles that were restarted. 

The watchmaker's cycle nested in each cycle that people brought to the shop. Without marks, without cycles that stopped it, life continued. Alejandro, who attended to each broken cycle for a cycle, became a cycle of life for the people, a cycle of life that did not die. The mirror of the old man's clock, which hung on the wall, reflected cycles that are repaired, cycles that are joined. The cycle of life that was remade, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. People who searched for cycles to continue, people who dreamed of repaired cycles, people who longed for cycles that beat. 

Every cycle that people brought to the shop, every cycle that people found, was a cycle that was repaired. The watchmaker's cycle, which stopped, became a cycle of the life that people brought. Without marks, without cycles to stop it, life was remade, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Alejandro, who for one cycle was a cycle of life, was now a cycle of the eternal cycle. The watchmaker's cycle became a cycle of each cycle, a cycle that people brought, a cycle that people found. And the shop, which for one cycle was empty, was filled with cycles that were broken, with cycles that are restarted. 

The watchmaker's cycle, which was a cycle of life, expanded through the square. The cycle of the eternal cycle became a cycle of the life of the people who passed by. Alejandro, who for one cycle was a cycle of life, continued a cycle, a cycle that people brought. Without marks, without cycles to stop it, life was remade, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Each cycle that was broken became a cycle that was repaired, a cycle that was joined, a cycle that was remade. The old man's mirror clock, which hung on the wall, reflected the life that people dreamed of, the life that people longed for. 

In Alejandro's shop, life continued, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. The watchmaker's cycle became a cycle of life, a cycle that people brought. The cycle of the eternal cycle nested in each cycle that was repaired. Without marks, without cycles that limit it, life was remade, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Each cycle that people brought, each cycle that people found, was a cycle that was repaired, a cycle that was restarted. The watchmaker's cycle, which one cycle attended to each broken cycle, became a cycle of people's life. 

And the square, which was silent for one cycle, was filled with cycles that were broken, with cycles that were remade. Alejandro, the cycle that stopped, became a cycle of each cycle, a cycle that people brought. Without marks, without cycles to stop it, life was remade, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. The cycle of the watchmaker of broken dreams, which stopped, became a cycle of the eternal cycle. Each cycle that people brought, each cycle that people found, was a cycle that was repaired, a cycle that was joined. And the shop, which was empty for a cycle, was filled with cycles that are restarted, cycles that are remade. 

A cycle of life that expanded, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Alejandro, who was once a cycle of life, was now a cycle of the eternal cycle. The cycle of the watchmaker nested in each cycle that people brought, was remade in each cycle that people found. Without marks, without cycles to limit it, life continued. The clockmaker's cycle, which repaired cycles, which gave life to cycles, became the cycle of the life that people dreamed of. The mirror of the old man's clock, which hung on the wall, reflected the life that people longed for, the life that people desired. The watchmaker's cycle became a cycle of every cycle, a cycle that people brought to the shop. Without marks, without cycles to stop it, life was remade, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Alejandro, who once was a cycle of life, joined the eternal cycle, a cycle that people brought, a cycle that people found. Each cycle that was broken became a cycle that was repaired, a cycle that is restarted. The square, which had been silent for a cycle, now resonated with cycles that were broken, cycles that are remade, cycles that are joined. 

The cycle of the eternal cycle nested in each cycle that was repaired. Alejandro, the watchmaker of cycles, continued his cycle, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Life, which once was broken, became a cycle that people brought. Without marks, without cycles to stop it, life continued. The clockmaker's cycle, which had stopped, became the cycle of life that people dreamed of. The eternal cycle expanded, cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. The shop, which had been empty for a cycle, was filled with cycles that were restarted, cycles that were remade. And life, in its endless cycle, was remade cycle by cycle, tick-tock by tick-tock. Alejandro, the cycle of life, the cycle of the eternal cycle, continued its cycle, a cycle that people brought, a cycle that people found.

By Carlos del Puente relatos