A Bold Night Stand

I strode back inside after my run around town and headed straight for the dark end table by the armchair. A heavy brass pocket watch was resting face-up beside a glass water tumbler. It looked like an ironclad challenge, so I hauled myself up onto the grooved casing and tried to pry the front latch with both boots planted solid. The cover snapped open with a sharp, resonant ring that shook the whole dial under me! I didn't flinch—I stood firm on the Roman numerals, gripped the popped lid like an iron shield, and claimed the ticking mechanism as my nightly watchtower.