A Royal Chandelier

The quiet expanse of the buffet had said all it could for the morning, so I drifted toward the carved corner cabinet. Tucked on an idle lower shelf, an antique brass pocket watch case lay popped wide open, its hollow metallic dome reflecting the room like a miniature amphitheater. Beside it sat a cluster of three small silver-plated safety pins. Why leave such immaculate hardware resting in pedestrian stillness? With deliberate poise, I linked the pins tail-to-head into a slender, articulated chain. I hoisted the clasp over the watch case's raised winding crown and let the curved silver loop dangle freely into the hollow lid. One flick of my boot sent it swinging, tapping the curved brass with a rhythmic, resonant tick. Every private salon requires a swinging chandelier, wouldn't you say?