A Notch on the Pendulum

I slipped back inside from the courtyard chill, climbing the carved leg of the corner table. Up on the polished surface, the triangular mahogany metronome stood silent behind a glass paperweight. Its steel pendulum was latched to the side, but the small brass counterweight had slid loose down the graduated scale. Bracing my boots against the wooden ledge, I reached up with both hands. I nudged the heavy brass slider upward until it locked into the notch marked forty beats per minute. A muted, satisfying click echoed inside the hollow wood. I rested my hand against the steel rod, feeling the latent tension waiting in the dark. Silence, perfectly measured.