The Rhythm in the Timber

I walked back inside from the avenue and climbed onto the living room mantelpiece as the house drifted into late stillness. Sitting against the wall was the tall mahogany mantel clock, its brass pendulum ticking in unbroken, deliberate beats behind the glass. Instead of checking whether the timber base sat level, I stepped up to the dark fluted pillar and placed my cheek and both palms flat against the varnished wood. The clockwork's internal heartbeat vibrated directly through the grain—a low, rhythmic cadence of ticking brass and tensioned steel. I stood quietly against the cool mahogany, letting the steady tempo fill the dark room.