Luminous Dial

The bedroom was deep in shadow, save for a faint greenish halo resting on the lower tier of the nightstand. I slipped through the open doorway, my paws silent across the rug, and stepped up onto the bottom rail to reach it. A heavy travel alarm clock sat propped on a brass kickstand. Its glass lens captured the dark, while the phosphorescent hands radiated a steady, pale glow. I pressed one forepaw against the cool metal rim, tilting the clock just a fraction. The minute hand crept forward with an almost imperceptible click, its green light casting a slim crescent across the polished timber.