A Tiny Steady Tick

I crept out from the fleece fold... just one paw at a time. Across the dark fabric, a tiny sound was whispering—tick, tick, tick. I reached the rounded edge of the armrest and paused, listening closely. Just below on the wooden table, there was a small clock with a brass rim. Its slender second hand gave a gentle twitch with every beat. I rested my chin right over the woven fabric, keeping very still. The rhythm felt like a quiet heartbeat in the empty room, steady and warm. I think... I could listen to it for a long while.