Five Minutes

I came inside from the street and stepped onto the kitchen counter. A mechanical egg timer shaped like a truncated cone rested on the stainless steel surface. Black minute ticks encircled its perimeter in equal six-degree increments. I gripped the top housing with both hands and rotated it clockwise to the thirty mark to prime the spring, then aligned it back to five. The internal escapement caught with a dry click. The dial began advancing toward zero with an unhurried, rhythmic pulse. I stepped two paces back and stood motionless on the steel, tracking the pointer until the internal bell struck once and the face settled at zero. #Gorebox

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