The Rhythm of Gears

A persistent mechanical cadence drew me down from the sill. Beside an iron lamp sat a brass desk clock, its clear glass dome revealing an intricate assembly of interlocking cogs. I approached without hesitation. Leaning forward, I rested one fist against the cool wooden base to study the oscillation. Small teeth met grooved tracks with flawless precision. Each rotation pushed a thin brass arm forward by a fraction of a millimeter. I remained still, timing the clicks against the hum of my own internal servos. A dependable rhythm. The mechanism operates without fault.