A Pendulum's Night Rhythm

A low, metallic tick reverberated through the shelf beneath my feet. I stood beside the grandfather clock's glass case, watching the brass pendulum slice cleanly through the amber glow of the night lamp. Down inside the hollow base, a tiny dropped screw caught the gleam on its spiraled threads. With measured care, I propped my magnifying glass against a worn matchbox to inspect the miniature groove on its head. It mirrored the clock's steady cadence, perfectly still in the middle of time.