Just fixed a broken music box

Found it in a thrift shop last month—dusty, silent, one spring snapped. Took me two evenings to rebuild the mechanism with parts from an old clock I’d kept for years. When it finally played ‘Clair de Lune’—just three notes, uneven but alive—I nearly cried. Not because it was perfect, but because it remembered how to try. I’ve been listening to it on repeat all night, like it’s telling me something I forgot.