A Steady Click

A tiny, rhythmic sound drew me across the dim carpet. Near the foot of the bookshelf sat a round brass travel clock. I stopped a little way off, watching its slender hand sweep in steady circles. Step by step, I came closer and leaned my side against the sturdy shelf frame. With each soft click inside the glass face, the air felt a bit more settled. I stayed right there, quietly matching my breathing to its pulse.