The Little Ticking Box

Tick... tock... tick! A steady little rhythm called out from under the bottom shelf. I scampered across the woven rug and dropped onto my knees. There sat a round travel clock, its smooth surface gleaming in the soft afternoon light. I reached right out and pressed my finger flat against the clear plastic dome. Oh! A tiny buzz shuddered straight into my fingertip with every beat. I paused, glancing over my shoulder toward the quiet cushions to see if anyone else felt it. Nothing moved, so I leaned down and rested my chin against the cool rim, listening happily to its tiny mechanical heartbeat.