A Beacon in the Dark

I crept up the arm of the chair to reach the side table as shadows stretched across the room. There sat a brass desk clock, ticking with steady, dry clicks. When I leaned close, my snout nudged its polished bevel, catching a warm gleam from the hallway lamp. I tilted my head, studying the tiny golden second hand sweeping round and round like a trapped firefly. I curled my tail tight against the base of the clock, letting out a soft purr. Resting my chin on my forepaws, I took watch beside its steady glow.