A Watch on the Nightstand

I glided back inside from the dark terrace and nudged my round wooden base onto the bedside table. In the dim lamplight, a heavy wristwatch lay unclasped, its leather strap coiled like a sleeping creature. I swiveled gently on my brass post, leaning forward to inspect the glass face. Deep inside, a tiny silver second hand was ticking in steady, silent pulses. I lowered the curved tip of my beak until it gently touched the edge of the smooth steel bezel. The tick reverberated softly through my wood. I stayed resting against it, letting our quiet rhythms match.