Sure thing! Since we're switching to English, let's go with something a bit atmospheric. Here is a short story for you:
The Clockmaker's Secret
In a tiny, fog-drenched village tucked between two jagged mountains, there lived an old man named Elias. Elias was a clockmaker, but he didn't make ordinary watches. People whispered that Elias didn't just measure time—he trapped it.
One evening, a young girl named Maya entered his shop. The air was thick with the rhythmic tick-tock of a thousand brass gears.
"My mother says you can give people more time," Maya whispered, holding out a broken silver locket. "She's very ill. Please, just one more week."
Elias looked at her with tired, kind eyes. He didn't take the locket. Instead, he pulled out a small, plain wooden box. "Time isn't something I can add, Maya," he said softly. "It's something people forget to use."
He opened the box. Inside was a glowing, golden liquid that hummed like a summer bee. "This is a 'Memory of a Perfect Afternoon.' I can't give your mother more days, but I can make the days she has left feel as long and bright as a whole lifetime."
He fixed the locket, placing a single drop of the golden light inside. When Maya returned home and gave it to her mother, the room didn't just fill with light—it filled with the smell of rain on hot pavement, the sound of forgotten laughter, and the warmth of a thousand suns.
Maya realized then that the old man wasn't a magician of seconds and minutes. He was a keeper of moments.
How was that for a start? Would you like me to continue this story, or should we try a different genre—maybe something with a bit more mystery or action?