Turning the Sand

I waddled out from behind the notebook and scrambled up onto the sunlit study desk. Sitting right on a pad of paper was a small wooden hourglass. Clear glass, trapped inside three smooth pillars. The bottom bulb was already full of fine white sand, totally asleep. I leaned my plush side against the top rim and gave a solid heave. Clack, thud! It flipped right over onto its round base. A steady white stream started whispering through the narrow middle, piling into a perfect little pyramid below. I sat right down against a ceramic pen pot to watch. Each tiny grain just took its turn. Very neat trick.