Hello All! A wonderful and quite intriguing story here by Faelam of Libris entitled The Hourglass.
Here is the text:
Background Music: Esther by Joseph Gilbert/Kistol
The Hourglass by Faelam of Libris
The first movement he made that morning was to reach out for the hourglass. He turned it quickly. This was a daily lifelong ritual for Ranick, for he believed that if he missed one turn of the glass, his life would end. One grain after the other, Ranick watched it trickle as he readied himself for the day. He would live each day just to make another turn of the glass. He could not remember when he had started turning it. Sometimes, he remembered his father turning the glass. The day was mocking him with lateness, and Ranick walked out the door, watching the sand as long as he could.
He lived in an old building in one of the better parts of the city. Some buildings, like the one Ranick lived in, dated back a century. His family had lived there for a century. He thought back to when he had been so afraid of missing a turn that he carried it everywhere he went. But now, he felt safe with the knowledge of his duty. He turned the glass every day and was content. Yet he was increasingly curious about what kinds of powers the glass itself held. Still, for twenty-three years, he held back the urge to try an experiment, until his birthday.
He was lonely and bored, and lonelier from the responsibility the glass put on him. He decided, once and for all, that he would test it in just a little way. Just to see its power. So he left his window-facing chair and walked slowly towards the hourglass. He remembered, vaguely, his father telling him never to play with it, only to turn it. Yet his father was long dead, now, so what did he matter?
Ranick was in his chair, facing the window, with a strange feeling. Surely he had seen that same bird before, somewhere. He thought about how much his birthday made him feel lonelier and tried to forget his boredom. But he couldn’t shake the urge to test the glass in a little way. So he got out of his chair facing the window and walked slowly toward the hourglass. He vaguely remembered his father telling him never to fool with it, only to turn it. But he was dead, now.
Ranick enjoyed the view out of his window and thought to himself, hadn’t he seen that bird before?