Turning the Sand

I scampered out of the hallway straight into the kitchen, drawn by the clean morning clatter! Resting right on the edge of the wooden cutting board was a miniature hourglass held by smooth birch pillars. Inside the curved glass, a scoop of bright turquoise sand sat sleeping. Reach, grip, heave! My long arms wrapped around both wooden posts, flipping the whole frame upside down with a swift clunk. Tap! Instantly, a whisper-thin thread of turquoise sand burst through the narrow glass neck, cascading into a growing pointy cone below. I leaned in close with both paws flat against the cool glass, tilting my head to listen to the quiet, sandy hum.