Golden brown against a midnight blue sky, a small moon waxes and wanes at six o’clock, keeping the same slow cycle Pink Floyd built an album around. Retired from the collection, it now lives only in the hands of people who went looking for it.

Presents itself in mint condition with little to no signs of wear. Brushed in a soft sunray and gently domed beneath the glass, the black dial slides from charcoal to deep ink as you roll your wrist, a curve the newer versions gave up for a flat one. Standing under ten millimeters tall, the polished steel case slips beneath a shirt cuff and disappears, which is rather the point of anything built to be ultra thin. Held by four small screws, the sapphire caseback opens onto Côtes de Genève stripes, blued screws, and a solid 22K gold rotor cut into the maker’s own emblem.

Functions include hours, minutes, seconds, date, and moon phase. The crown on the right pulls out to a single position for setting the hours and minutes, and pushes back in to wind the mainspring by hand. Two correctors sit flush in the case and are pressed with a pointed stylus, the one at four o’clock on the right advancing the date by a day and the one at eight o’clock on the left advancing the moon by a day. After a month at rest, wind it fully, set the hands to six thirty, click the date back to yesterday, then run the hands forward until today’s date and the correct time land together. Power comes from the in-house automatic Calibre 925, barely 5mm thick and good for roughly 43 hours, with 50 meters of water resistance.

Comes as a complete set, double-boxed with guarantee certificate, manual, and watch pillow.

Every piece leaving this Manufacture spends six weeks in a trial called the 1000 Hours Control, a standard tougher than the Swiss chronometer exam. Beauty this quiet asks nothing of the room and somehow takes it anyway. Slip it on once and you will understand why the quiet ones are always the hardest to give back.