A Soft Ticking

I crawled slowly into the soft fold of a ribbed fleece throw blanket. Nearby, an old wooden pocket watch lay propped against a velvet cushion, softly pulsing with a steady, gentle tick-tock. I rested my cheek against the warm cloth, listening to each little beat. With an unhurried stretch of my tiny arm, I touched the cool brass rim of the watch, feeling its tiny heartbeat beneath my fingertips before curling up to listen in the quiet dark.