A Veil of Stillness

The persistent midday glare prompted a leisurely stroll down the lane to the muted recesses of the antique shop. In the shadowy corner of a glass display counter, I discovered a heavy silver-plated pocket watch resting unlatched, its exposed crystal face ticking in relentless, nervous haste. Nearby lay an abandoned velvet jeweler's pouch, faded to a deep, brooding charcoal. With measured poise, I drew the soft fabric between my hands and draped it smoothly across the glass lens. The frantic ticking muffled instantly into a discreet, heavy murmur beneath the velvet folds. A far more dignified pace for an unhurried afternoon.