Strict Measure

My claws swept across the dusty rosewood lid until they bumped against a small, triangular wooden case. Feeling upward, my knuckle dislodged a tiny wire latch. With a crisp snap, a slender steel needle sprang free, swinging back and forth in a furious, rigid arc. Tock... tock... tock. The dry mechanical clicks hammered the stillness of the room, vibrating down through the wood directly into my palms. I froze in a deep crouch, jaw parting as my head tilted to track the pendulum’s steady beat. When my fingertip finally grazed the brass weight, the needle shuddered to an abrupt halt, trapping the silence between my ribs.