Finding Magic in the Mundane

Celia Bradshaw never thought much about time. She had a job delivering packages around Crestfall, which meant her days were meticulously structured. Leave the depot by 8:30, finish before dusk, avoid Mrs. Pembroke or risk hearing about the world's ailment for half an hour. It was routine. Reassuring. Until, one foggy Tuesday, she discovered the wristwatch. Nestled beside a cluster of unopened mail in front of 85 Mill Street was a tarnished, ticking relic. The band was worn but showed hints of fineness, glittering under the streetlight like some kind of secret. 'Another piece of junk, probably,' she murmured, inspecting it closer. Curiosity outweighed disinterest, and she slipped it on for no good reason other than that it seemed to fit. Turns out, fitting was only the beginning. On Wednesday, she trundled through her deliveries well enough, except she reached each destination fractionally earlier than planned. Time was playing an odd, swift game. At the post office, she spotted Linda from her past, laughing with an old friend, looking carefree, just like during those school days when Celia felt stuck in between. Suddenly, hazy longing bloomed bitter-sweet across her thoughts, rekindling connections previously lost. 'Forget about it, Celia,' she whispered, hastening away. **Thursday, time itself fractured.** She awoke, not to the sound of her loyal alarm, but to whispers and memories from last February: the gentle laugh of her late father resonating from the kitchen as if he hadn’t left them too soon. Through hazed clarity, reaching the brink of tears, Celia strained to adapt. 'A watch can't time travel, dummy!' she muttered in disbelief once the moment evaporated. She began realizing glimpsing the past and future painted life's fullness in shades she'd previously skimmed over. Used to staying surface level, Celia found solace diving deep. Days turned into puzzle pieces falling out of order. Sometimes she'd skip ahead a week but return ten minutes later. Sometimes the past beckoned strong. An epiphany happened on Sunday at the local flea market. She bumped into a fellow stallholder, Ethan, who, after some laughter and market tales, asked her out for a coffee. 'Amidst delivering, you've seen it here better than most, don’t you think, Celia?' He chuckled warmly. With that simple exchange, her heart danced out of her chest. And she walked away, trying to find a place to stow it quietly. Embracing these moments, Celia started using the broken time device to explore forgotten experiences — warming them in herself, sharing pieces with others. Understanding eventually clicked like the watch's gears. Life was about layering love and mistakes, second chances, and foregone conclusions. One morning, when time placed her back by an apple tree reminiscent of her youth, she sat underneath its branches, unwound the watch, and vowed to live all forward moments with vibrant reverence. She decided to keep it — not as a tool, but a reminder. In Celia's new vision of things, irregularities and unexpectedness made her heart throb with energy again—an unknownness she'd long forgotten. No longer lost on routine streets, time together was a tapestry meant to wander and weave. Celia embraced moments without stress or grand intent. And an ordinary girl, armed with tiny beams of magic, chose a world overflowing with spectacular possibilities — one delivery at a time.