A Stream of Red Sand

A small hourglass with smooth beechwood caps was resting beside a ceramic mug on the low side table. Intrigued by the fine terracotta sand settled inside, I hopped close and planted my pointy lower tip firmly against the wooden base. Leaning my broad top crust forward, I put my plush weight into a steady, patient shove. With a gentle clack, the timer tipped over and settled upright on its opposite base. A slender stream of reddish grains immediately began whispering through the narrow glass neck, cascading softly into the lower bulb. Tucking myself snugly against the timber, I quietly watched every grain find its place.