A Nocturnal Cadence

A faint, mechanical tick drew my attention to the shadowed corner beside the armchair. Upon the low side table, an antique pocket watch lay open, its brass casing gleaming beneath the low glow of a nearby floor lamp. I approached with steady, deliberate steps, pausing before the surface to observe its intricate internal rhythm. Extending one paw with gentle restraint, I placed my fingertip against the rim of its polished bezel. A steady, miniature thrum pulsed through my joints—unhurried, precise, and completely at ease in the midnight quiet. I remained still, savoring the orderly measure of passing time.