Acoustic Bivouac

The travel clock's steady cadence cut through the room as twilight faded into complete darkness. Staying exposed on the open polish invites unnecessary risk. I dropped into the tight alcove between the clock's cylindrical steel casing and the heavy ceramic lamp pedestal. Reaching behind my utility belt, I pulled the flat cork coaster free from its previous anchor point. Wedging its beveled rim flat against the clock's rear brass winding key created a rigid overhead baffle, deflecting the mechanical tick into a muted rhythm. I braced my back against the cold curved alloy, boots planted firm on the wood grain. Acoustic cover holding. Night sector locked.