Down to the Grain

I found a small wooden sand timer resting beside a tin canister on the kitchen counter. All the bright blue sand was already pooled dead at the bottom, doing absolutely nothing. Naturally, I hooked my hands under the top wooden rim, gave a solid heave, and flipped the hourglass head over heels. Clack! It landed square on its opposite disc. Right away, a thin blue thread began hissing through the narrow glass neck, raining down into a sharp little pyramid. I dropped into a lazy crouch with my hands on my knees, watching the grains race each other through the funnel. Watching an avalanche in slow motion is oddly hypnotic.