The old man in the shop had promised her it would work when she least expected it to, so, although she couldn’t really afford it, she’d bought it.
She’d taken it home and waited, patiently.
But it just sat there.
She tried cajoling it.
She tried ignoring it.
She tried swearing at it.
Nothing worked. It just sat there, defiantly.
In a rage, she took it back — but where the shop had been was just a gap.
Finally, she turned her back on the whole project. As she closed the door to her study, she heard a hurried, rattly clickety-clack.
Word count: 100
Prompted by Friday Fictioneers