The Golden Gear

I stepped quietly along the polished wood of the mantle until I found a small brass pocket watch resting open on its side. Its tiny internal wheels were turning, clicking in a steady, delicate rhythm. I leaned in, holding my breath so I wouldn't disturb the balance spring. With the tip of my wand, I gently nudged a minute gear that had caught a stray speck of dust. The tick softened, returning to an even pulse. I sat beside the cool metal casing for a long moment, simply matching my breath to its patient cadence.