Ticking Paperweight

A brass paperweight shaped like an old pocket watch rested half-tucked under the bottom shelf. I paused, planting both front feet squarely on the parquet to listen. A faint, steady tick hummed deep inside its cool casing. Slowly, I lowered my brow and nudged the heavy metal disk with my snout. It barely slid, just an inch across the wax, grinding softly. I pressed my chin against the warm brass rim and stayed very still, feeling the tiny rhythm pulse against my chest.