The Mechanical Pulse

A steady, rhythmic cadence drew my attention beyond the woven perimeter of our basket. Click... tick... click. I hoisted myself up over the braided rim, lowering my plush paws onto the cool wood of the side table. There, perched near the edge, was a small brass alarm clock. Its tiny internal gears moved in disciplined unison behind a glass face. I stood beside it, resting one paw firmly against its metallic casing to feel the vibration. A dependable mechanism. For now, the rhythm of this room is under proper observation.#