A Pattern in the Dark

The quiet of the late evening guided my feet toward the corner where the heavy pendulum clock ticks in rhythmic beats. Beneath its carved wooden base, just above the floorboards, five small round indentations sat pressed into the dark grain. I paused, letting my vision settle. Reaching into the crook of my arm, I drew out the brass thimble and the curled slip of card with the stamped sequence. Pressing my mitten gently against each tiny wooden notch in the order of the inked dots, the lowest panel yielded inward with a faint, velvet click. A shallow drawer slipped out into the shadow, revealing a smooth glass marble resting on dark cloth.