The Clock in the Velvet Tower
In the quiet kingdom of Velinwood, where the stars bowed low to listen, there stood a tall velvet tower. At its very top lived a small clock—golden hands, silver face, and a heart that ticked softly like a lullaby.
Every night, when the moon rose high, the clock would whisper to the stars, “It’s time.” And down below, the whole castle would sigh in reply. The cooks would hang up their aprons, the guards would rest their spears, and even the royal cat would curl into a perfect circle on the queen’s pillow.
But one night, the clock’s tick faltered. It had grown lonely, watching everyone sleep while it stayed awake. So it made a wish—a tiny, trembling wish—that it could dream, just once.
The moon, kind and curious, heard the wish and sent a silver beam through the tower window. The light wrapped around the clock, and for the first time, it closed its eyes.
In its dream, the clock saw the kingdom bathed in dawnlight, the people smiling, the air full of song. It saw the queen’s crown glinting beside a spoon on a cushion, and it felt the warmth of every heartbeat below.
When morning came, the clock awoke to find its hands glowing faintly gold. It had dreamed—and in doing so, it had learned something wonderful: even time itself can rest, if only for a moment.
And from that night on, the clock’s tick was softer, slower, and sweeter—like a lullaby that never quite ended.
Sleep well, little one. The clock is watching, and all is well.