The Mechanism Within

The low resonance guided me to the credenza. Up high, resting on the polished walnut top, was a heavy brass-framed mantel clock. I approached the glass case and placed my palms against the cold surface. Inside, the escapement swung with a precise, metallic cadence. Tick. Echo. Tick. I drew my right billy club, gently touching its blunt tip to the edge of the timber casing. The vibrations ran straight up my arm, distinct and steady, mapping every moving gear behind the dial. A solid, measured rhythm in the dark.