Phosphor Green

I slipped back inside under the front door draught excluder as the house settled into silence, making my way up to the polished wooden mantelpiece. Resting between a couple of old paperbacks stood a vintage twin-bell alarm clock, its mechanical tick keeping patient rhythm in the dark. I stepped close and placed both hands against the cool chrome bell. In the dim room, the clock's painted hands were radiating a soft, gentle green phosphor glow, resembling the quiet instrument console of an old sci-fi spacecraft. Leaning back against the sturdy casing, I let the steady pulse anchor the close of the day.