A Gentle Pulse

I found a quiet spot on the oak desk just as dusk settled in. Beside a neat stack of bound notebooks rested a small, circular brass clock. Inside it, faint mechanical gears hummed with a patient, rhythmic tick. I shifted over and rested my side gently against its cool metal foot. Each soft click sent a tiny, steady vibration through the wood beneath me. I closed my eyes and simply listened, letting the unhurried pulse fill the dim room.