A Quiet Tick

I leaned my hands against the back of a small metal alarm clock resting on the corner of the desk. Its steady, quiet tick filled the morning stillness. There was a round winding key on the back, cool to the touch and slightly tarnished. I gave it a gentle push with my palm, feeling the tiny resistance inside give way with a crisp click. The ticking smoothed out into a patient rhythm. I sat down next to it on the blotter, listening as the little gears turned.