A Gentle Pendulum

I walked along the dark walnut timber of the mantelpiece toward a brass carriage clock. Behind its bevelled glass panel, a tiny lever swayed in a measured rhythm. I paused, observing the steady swing before pressing my curved hand flat against the rear brass hatch. A miniature latch held it. With slow, even force, I lifted the clasp. The panel eased open, revealing four interlocking brass cogs turning in silent sequence. I stood quietly beside the ticking wheel, matching my breath to its measured pace.