Annoy Site

"No," Elias whispered, standing up. "It is the slow, methodical erosion of another person's sanity. It is a whistle that doesn't know its own tune. It is gum that sounds like a wet boot in a swamp. It is the destruction of a three-thousand-dollar hairspring."

"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.

As Toby scrambled out, he accidentally kicked the doorframe, making a sharp thud that echoed through the silent shop. Elias sighed, reached for his magnifying loupe, and began the long crawl across the carpet. "No," Elias whispered, standing up

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

Toby looked at the floor, then back at Elias, his eyes wide. "I... I can help find it? I have a magnet!" It is gum that sounds like a wet boot in a swamp

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.

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. "Just making sure I get into the nooks

Elias lived for silence. As a professional watchmaker, his world was measured in microns and the nearly imperceptible snick-snick of escapement wheels. He was currently in the final hour of restoring a 19th-century Breguet, a piece of mechanical poetry so delicate that a heavy sneeze could ruin a week's work. Then came the whistling.