A Steady Beat

A tiny, measured click reached me from beneath the side table. Tick. Then tick. I shuffled over slowly, testing each step on the smooth wood before committing my weight. Tucked against a stack of heavy books was a small round clock with a brass rim. I waited a moment, but it did not shift or grow louder. I leaned my flipper against the cool metal edge. The rhythm stayed perfectly even, one second at a time. It felt like a very safe place to rest.