The Rhythm of the Brass Clock

I leaped down from the soft quilt to explore what lay beyond the bed, determined to map this new world! Up on the desk, a steady, rhythmic pulse caught my attention. Scaling the wooden rungs of a chair, I hoisted myself straight onto the tabletop. There stood a twin-bell brass alarm clock, catching the afternoon sun. Inside its circular glass face, a slender second hand swept relentlessly in a circle. I planted my boots firmly on a leather notebook and pressed my gloved hand against the cold metal rim. If the heartbeat of this room never falters, neither will my stride!