Craig was late for his interview. It wasn't his fault.
He got to the station in good time, but It was only when he crossed the
footbridge to his platform that he realised.
An overrunning freight train had caused a delay at the previous station
so the passenger trains behind were halted to allow its passage,
all the while, eating up precious minutes and seconds, adding them onto
his own. He would never be there on time now.
He didn't have a lot of experience in his chosen field, PR, but he more
than made up for it with exhuberence, enthusiasm and what he liked to
call "Razzle Dazzle". He had various notes with him he planned to go
over on the train but now he was unnerved. He was always punctual but
he knew that the train couldn't make up the time and he would now be at
least ten minutes late for his interview. It would take all the Razzle
Dazzle in Las Vegas
His interview was with a company in Soho and he vaguely knew where it
was. Down one of the many numerous alleyways and passages that make up
London 's answer to Montmartre . Replete with rougish charm, as much for
the tourists as the edgy new media companies that set up there hoping
some of that dark stardust would rub off on them.
He sprinted up the stairs of Oxford Street
in the direction of Soho as quickly as his painful interview shoes
would allow. He turned left at a GOLF SALE sign and then right, left,
left again through the narrow arteries of the district. He glanced up to
check his barings and slipped on the greasy surface landing flat on his
back.
Winded, he regained his senses seconds later and glanced to his left at
a bright Victorian-style shop front.
The window was full of clocks, all varying styles, sizes, colours,
shapes and languages. Some displaying numbers, some spelling the time
in letters, some small watches, some digital appliances and a large
grandfather clock in the middle with such a stately presence that the
rest of the clocks appeared as if they were looking up at it.
That wasn't the most striking feature of the window. It took Craig a
good ten seconds to realise that all the clocks were telling dfferent
times and the hands and digits were moving at different speeds both
backwards and forwards.
Craig was stunned. Not just at the sheer number of clocks in what
looked like such a small space, but mainly because his brain was
refusing to accept what his eyes were telling him.
They were definately moving backwards, and forwards, and at different
speeds! He stepped backwards from the window and looked up at the sign
above the shop.
It said: "The Time Shop - We've always got time for YOU".
Craig looked down at his own watch. It had stopped. 
