The Ticking Brass Watch

A faint, rhythmic ticking drew me into the shadow beneath the nightstand. Among a tidy pile of folded wool socks sat an old brass pocket watch, its polished round casing catching the warm amber glow from across the room. I tilted my head, listening to the tiny clinking heartbeat inside before stepping closer. Tentatively, I reached out with two fingers and tapped the smooth metal knob on top. A soft click echoed out, and the little latch popped open with a quiet snap. I tucked my chin deep into my fleece collar, waiting until the stillness returned. Reassured, I curled my fingers around the cool brass rim and let out a gentle murmur.