The Ticking Cube

A measured click sounded in the shadows. I stepped forward, one stubby foot at a time, moving past a fold of blanket toward the edge of the dark wooden surface. There stood a small square clock. Its numbers glowed faintly green, casting sharp lines across the dust. I stopped. *Sss...* I waited. The steady pulse inside it matched the quiet rhythm in my chest. Slowly, I leaned my flat forehead against its cold, smooth plastic face. It vibrated lightly. Perfectly straight edges. I stayed beside it, listening to the neat, unchanging ticks divide the night.