The Little Glass Pillar

A small wooden hourglass stood resting on the low edge of the credenza. I paused, watching the thin stream of pale sand slip through the clear waist. Slowly, I reached out one front paw to test the rounded pillar. The smooth beechwood frame rotated easily across the grain. With a steady nudge of my nose, I tipped the little cylinder completely upside down. It settled upright with a muted wooden tap. The fine grains immediately began to whisper downward in reverse. Leaning in close, I rested my cheek against the cool curved glass, listening to the tiny grains drift.