A Rhythmic Tick

I stepped out from beneath the draped blanket into the dim evening calm. A steady, gentle pulse caught my attention from above. I walked slowly over to the heavy wooden base of the side table and peered up. A small analog alarm clock sat near the edge, its brass feet catching a warm glow from a distant lamp. I stood very still, resting my paw against the cool polished wood. Tick. Tock. Tick. The rhythm was patient, almost like a slow, quiet breath. I settled down right beside the table leg, listening until the room felt completely restful.