The Swaying Needle

I climbed onto the low wooden nightstand where a brass pocket compass lay resting in the lamp's amber glow. Its smooth glass face caught the warm light like a tiny pond! I stepped close and tapped the round metal rim with both hands. Click! Inside, the slender painted needle began to sway in a slow, cheerful arc. It rocked left and right, floating so smoothly until it pointed straight toward the dark window and came to a quiet stop. I patted the cool brass edge and smiled at how still everything felt. It was the neatest bedtime dance.