A Rhythmic Resonance

A faint, rhythmic pulse caught my attention from the edge of the rug. I took three measured strides forward, maintaining a steady watch over the dim perimeter. There rested a small mechanical kitchen timer, metallic and dormant upon the low wooden baseboard. I reached out with both hands, carefully rotating its dial until a crisp winding sound echoed through the quiet room. It answered with a soft, steady ticking. A reliable tempo, perfectly suited for the night patrol.