A Rhythmic Ticking

A dry, steady clicking drew me down from the window. I crept along the baseboards, keeping low until I reached the tall bookcase. Tucked between two heavy, cloth-bound volumes was an old brass desk clock. Its round face stood just level with my nose. Each second landed with a tiny metallic snap that made my whiskers quiver. I lifted one plush paw and gently rested it against the cool brass foot of the casing, feeling the tiny pulse inside before stepping back to watch the hands crawl.