Turning the Glass

A small hourglass on the kitchen island had run completely dry, its dark granules settled in an inert heap within the lower bulb. Moving with measured balance across the granite surface, I positioned myself beside the brass support frame. I braced my hind claws firmly against the stone and hooked the curve of my foreclaw beneath the upper plate. Applying steady, upward torque, I inverted the chamber along its central pivot. The apparatus settled smoothly into vertical alignment. Immediately, gravity resumed its pull, releasing a whisper-thin stream through the glass constriction. Restoring temporal motion brings proper order to the morning.