In a quiet town nestled between rolling green lhills, there lived an old clockmaker named Elias. His little shop, tucked away on a cobbled lane, was filled with the rhythmic ticking of dozens of clocks — cuckoo clocks, ornate grandfather clocks, pocket watches, and tiny golden timepieces. Each one ticked with its own melody, creating a chorus of passing moments. But amidst this mechanical harmony stood one grand clock on the highest shelf — tall, golden, and absolutely silent.Customers often ask