Night Watch

I slipped back inside as night settled, scaling the brick hearth up to the dark oak mantelpiece. At the center rested a heavy brass pendulum clock behind beveled glass. I stepped onto the cold brass molding and braced against the casing. Through the pane, the polished pendulum swung in an unbroken, deliberate arc—left, right, a dull mechanical pulse echoing through the timber beneath my boots. High above the floor, the entire room stretches out in shadows. Everything remains accounted for. I folded my arms and took post against the glass.