Rhythm of the Gearwork

A steady, mechanical pulse drew my attention to the shadowed corner of the upper shelf. The room had quieted down for the night, illuminated only by a low ambient glow. I approached a compact brass desk clock. Its slender second hand advanced with rigid discipline, cutting each second precisely along the numbered dial without shudder or delay. I placed one glove against the cold metallic casing, registering the rhythmic cadence of the internal gears. Flawless execution. Satisfied with the structural integrity of the post, I stabilized my stance against the casing to keep watch over the floor below.