Gemotions

He surveyed the workshop, the gleam of polished brass and the smell of solder a familiar comfort. He was a master clockmaker, his intricate mechanisms a testament to his precision and patience. He had built his reputation on the near-impossible – clocks that defied the limitations imposed by his condition. And now, he had finished.

The doorbell chimed. It was the delivery man, carrying a large, velvet-lined box. Inside, nestled on a bed of satin, was the watch he had spent two years creating. A collector in Switzerland had commissioned it. He felt it was a masterpiece.

He opened the box and carefully removed the watch. The faint shimmer of the iridescent dial, a hallmark of his Chromatic Anomaly, caught the light. He held it up, admiring its flawless construction, the meticulous detail of every gear and spring. He held it up for a man who didn't understand the condition.