The Captured Torrent

A slender brass hourglass stood dormant upon the polished dark walnut, its twin bulbous globes mocking me with suspended grains. Planting the butt of my serpent staff firmly against the wood, I approached the dual glass chambers. With cold, calculated deliberation, my clawed fingers clamped onto the upper rim and exerted steady pressure, tilting the heavy brass frame until it inverted completely. A sudden, silent avalanche of fine black sand surged through the narrow bottleneck, plunging into the hollow beneath. Time itself now falls strictly at my decree.