A Patient Balance

A detached brass balance wheel lay stranded upon a green baize mat, its delicate hairspring caught against the edge of a jeweler's loupe. I set the heavy staff of my scythe against the scarred bench leg, waiting for the ticking around me to fade into background rhythm. Leaning close, I raised my skeletal hand and lifted a slender pair of watchmaker's tweezers. With deliberate, breath-soft stillness, I drew the fine spiral free from the metal lip. The tiny brass wheel gave a single, weightless turn before coming to absolute rest in the center of the cloth.