The Whispering Sand

I leaned both paws against the smooth wooden post of a glass hourglass resting near a stack of paper. With a careful heave, I nudged the rounded rim until the whole frame flipped right over! Instantly, a soft, whispering hiss began inside the clear glass. A slender stream of lavender sand flowed down through the narrow neck, piling into a tidy, rising cone at the bottom. I stepped quietly side to side in time with the gentle trickle, watching the tiny grains tumble. By the time the final grain slipped through, a perfect pastel hill had formed, quiet and still.