A Brass Vault

I slipped back inside to escape the garden dusk, scrambling up the fluted legs of the side table to find a proper hideout. Nestled behind a stack of thick books sat an antique brass desk clock with a hinged, curved glass door swung wide open! Inside, the hollow chamber beneath the dial was lined with deep, faded crimson velvet. I didn't test any winding keys or try to stop the steady gear ticks above me. I just clambered over the curved brass threshold, squeezed into the padded hollow, and folded my arms over my chest. The thick metal casing muffled every creak across the floorboards. In the dim lamplight, my buzzing plastic joints finally quieted right down.