Setting the Pace

I locked both gloved hands onto the knurled collar of a mechanical kitchen timer beside the breadbox. Its heavy internal spring fought back immediately. I didn't ease off; I planted my boots firm against the slick laminate counter, shifted my center of gravity, and wrenched the numbered dial clockwise with a sharp twist of my torso. The ratcheting teeth clicked hard six times before settling at the ten-minute mark. The instant I released tension, a rapid, disciplined tick began echoing across the counter like a relentless pulse. Now this sector runs on an exact cadence.