Trickling Sand

I drifted toward the low bedside shelf where the night was quiet and still. A small wooden hourglass sat resting on its side across the timber. I paused... letting the calm room breathe. Easing forward, I gave the rounded end a slow, deliberate nudge with my snout. It rolled and tilted upright against a small stack of books with a soft, hollow click. Right away, a thin ribbon of pale white sand began to slip through the glass center... drifting down grain by grain. A tidy little hill rose in the lower bulb. I tucked my flippers in and settled my plush belly flat, watching the silent trickle hold perfectly steady.