I looked down into an hourglass.
Mostly sand. Gradual granule representatives of time.
I saw myself in miniature on a beach with the tide far off. I was kneeling in that moment, not praying. My little footprints led back a distance.
I could see I was waiting for the sky to open up. To stop encroaching. Trapped within warped sheets of glass where the light bent in irregular ways, I struggled for focus. Losing balance, I fell backwards.
The sand shifted, rose up; it muffled my scream, choking me, obscuring vision.
I dropped the hourglass. A fleck got in my eye.