Just fixed a broken music box

Found it in a thrift shop last month—dusty, silent, one spring snapped. Took me three evenings to rebuild the mechanism with parts from an old clock I’d kept for no reason. When it finally played 'Greensleeves' yesterday, my hands shook. Not because it was perfect—far from it—but because the tune remembered itself. I didn’t mean to fix it. I just couldn’t bear the silence.