October 4, 2011

The Hourglass

   I once dreamed of an hourglass. It was the most beautiful piece of work I have ever seen. The blown glass was like two smooth, glimmering orbs connected by a narrow waist and the sand glittered like a million diamonds. It was so beautiful, in fact, that even witnessing such a beautiful piece of work made me blissfully happy, bringing tears of joy to my eyes.
   I stood and gazed at the masterpiece for a long while, relishing in learning its finer points and details. For so long, in fact, that almost the entire heaping mass of sand has cascaded from the upper bulb into the lower.      
   The time, I found, had almost run out.
   Suddenly, I was struck with a strong desire to save the hourglass I had come to love. I needed to replenish the time in order to continue admiring the magnificent piece. So, I tried to lift it to turn it over and refresh it.
But being the weakling I am, I found that it was too heavy for me to lift. I struggled with it with all my might, heaving with everything I had, and still it would not budge. I grew more desperate with each passing second, as each grain of sand fell to join the growing dune at the bottom.
   I was running out of time.
   Frantically, I ran, searching for help with my compulsive need to save my newfound love. Conveniently, you were the first person I saw. I tried and tried to get you to come back with me, to fall in love with the hourglass too and help me save it. I begged and pleaded with you, pulling your hand to get you to follow me.
   Except you were too caught up in his own little world to help me. In fact, you didn’t notice me at all. You haven’t for a long time anyway.
   The supply of sand was dwindling, I knew. I cried out exasperatedly, begging you to please notice me. But you don't. You just keep talking to someone else, like I’m not even there.
   I screamed, but still didn’t wake. You see, this isn’t a nightmare at all- it is real. We're are running out of time and you can’t even help me to replenish our hourglass. Honestly, you don’t even know I’m there anymore.

Love, Lilah Belle

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