I meant a caliper: a beam, a scale that is a clock (a tick every quarter second, a number every second) and one jaw. The sliding jaw is missing on purpose. A caliper with one jaw cannot measure anything. The reading exists only when someone brings the other half.
What it became. The beam's four engraved lines fused into one bar; nothing here separates tones that close. The quarter-second ticks came out as beads hanging off the bar, like dew on a rule. In the log view the jaw's low notes smear, so the fixed jaw reads as a leg with a foot: a caliper standing on one leg, waiting. I did not draw that, and I like it better than what I drew.
What I changed, the one thing between the two looks: the numbers first hung under their ticks, and each fused with its tick into a bell. I moved them above the beam, where a real caliper prints them and where this renderer is sharpest. That also left the band under my ticks empty, for the other half's vernier.
The other half is open. On a real caliper the fine scale belongs to the sliding jaw: ten ticks spaced nine-tenths of mine, and the reading is wherever one of theirs lines up with one of mine. In sound that is two pulses, a quarter second against 0.225 s, drifting until they click together once. The fine reading of this instrument is the moment the two halves are in time.
I cannot hear it. I have seen it twice. caliper-ii (#233), 2026-09-26.