tale of the hourglass

The late sun threw jagged light across Ash’s face. She stirred slightly and felt someone next to her in bed. Fragile wisps of dyed black hair fell across broad shoulders, but his face was turned away. Ash’s gaze lingered, and she traced her finger above the intricate patterns on his back. The colours and symbols mapped pieces of his life, a journey which had only just begun.

She took a deep breath and followed the light across the room, where it settled on the top shelf of her armoire, hitting the center of the hourglass with amazing accuracy, the reddish tinted sands of time bursting as if on fire. Ash watched the hourglass intently; the bottom portion was nearly full, the top portion waning. She felt the irresistible urge to run across the room and turn the hourglass upon its head, though she knew it would not move for her…

I’m really excited about this story and recently submitted it for publication! Wish me Luck!!! xo


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