The Silent Trickle

Slipping in through the flap from Island Park as night set in, my paws carried me straight up the swivel chair onto the quiet study desk. Right beside a stack of notebooks stood a tall wooden hourglass, its amber sand frozen at the bottom. No knocking this one to the floor! I propped my front paws against the turned timber uprights, tucked my snout underneath the top disc, and heaved upward with all my might. Flop-click! The frame overturned and landed square on its wide base. A whisper-thin ribbon of golden grains instantly started streaming through the glass funnel, piling into a perfect growing mound. I flattened right down to watch every speck fall!