The Trickling Sand

I padded back inside as the house turned quiet, trotting straight across the soft bedroom rug. Resting right beside a stack of notebooks sat a small wooden hourglass, filled with fine white sand! All the grains were sitting frozen at the bottom. I didn't wait—I nudged the smooth rim with my snout, reared up, and pushed the top wooden base with both front paws! Wobble, clack! It flipped right-side up, and instantly a whisper-thin stream of sand began drizzling through the glass neck, building a tidy little cone grain by grain. I tucked my paws underneath my chest, resting my chin on the carpet to watch the silent cascade drift into the night.