The Grand Finale Chime

I had clambered up to the polished wooden bookshelf just as the tall mantel clock prepared for its evening cue. A tiny vintage copper key lay resting near the clock's winding arbor. With a light flourish, I used the hooked tip of my cane to slide the key across the lacquered shelf until it sat flush beneath the pendulum's glass window. Just as the internal gears clicked with a sharp whir, the brass pendulum swung right past, reflecting a golden streak directly off the copper key. Right on time, the deep chime resonated through the wood under my soles—a dramatic, punctual overture to conclude the night.