The Hourglass
I have an hourglass that stops.
I’ve always loved this special kind of clock, and I bought this one for a very cheap price in a dollar store with the intention of using it as decoration. It´s small and it’s filled with white sand, and I guess the cheap price can be blamed for this malfunction. Maybe the shape of it isn’t adequate, or they used some sand that isn´t thin enough, but at a certain point it just stops running down and only moves again if I gently tap the glass.
I like to watch the sand going down as a kind of meditation moment, so sometimes I turned it upside down, waited for the sand to stop, tapped it to watch the rest, and ignored this little problem of construction. I did it many times after I bought it, until I noticed what was really going on.
My bedroom has flower pots on the window, so I’m used to see bees flying around. I had turned the hourglass and was watching the sand and a bee walking on my desk, simultaneously. Then, the hourglass stopped. And so did the bee.
At first, I didn´t realize those things were connected. My attention turned to the bee, that had stopped moving its little dark legs and was not making that buzzing sound anymore. It was like if it was frozen, its transparent wings opened in a V shape and front legs extended, as if it was going to make another move next. I touched the bee with the tip of a pen. It didn´t move. I found it really unusual. But unusual things amuse me, so I was curious to find out how big was the power of my cheap hourglass. I tapped it, the sand started moving again, and the bee flapped its wings and flew away.
I did many experiments the following days. I put my kitchen clock near the hourglass and watched it stop ticking when the sand stopped. I called my mom at 9 am, turned the hourglass and the sand stopped halfway through our conversation, at 9h04 am, when my mom stopped talking. I counted five minutes, tapped the glass, my mom continued her last sentence as if nothing had happened and it was still 9h04 am according to my phone. The most exciting experiment was with the kitchen tap. I opened it and when the sand stopped, the water stopped too. It didn`t look frozen like what happens to waterfalls in cold places. It just… stopped. I could run my fingers through it and the shape wouldn’t change.
Now I’m sure my hourglass can stop time but it doesn’t affect me, I go on living. My relationship with time has always been a bit complicated: I always felt I had not enough of it. Life seems short, days are short, meals end too soon, people come and go too quickly, news get old too fast. After feeling a bit overwhelmed, having the power to give myself more time by freezing it, I’ve come to enjoy this process. I schedule days when I will let the hourglass stop and not tap it, and then I’ll read or write for what I suppose it’s a whole day and I’m completely sure not to be disturbed.
However, I’m afraid to let it stop for longer periods, like months. I don’t want people to get suspicious by looking different, maybe with my hair a little longer or a bit of extra suntan technically on the same day. And there’s also the sleeping problem, I can’t sleep properly when I stop the hourglass in the middle of the day and it’s sunny. I can get sunlight for a whole day, like people in Iceland get sometimes a year.
I love reading adventure books and, in those stories, the characters always get into trouble when they become too proud of their powers and don’t use it wisely. I’m not a character from a book and I definitely don’t need trouble in my life. I’ll keep my special hourglass safe and hope nobody finds out about it. I can’t even think of what could happen if some politicians had more time to work, considering the damage they can do with the time they already have. Or if my neighbor had more time to practice the violin, he seems to get worse each time he tries, so more time would do no good to him and to my ears. I’m not sure whether my hourglass would work for other people, but I’m not willing to find out.
Now, if you excuse me, I have something very important to do. I’m practicing throwing peanuts into the air at the exact moment when the hourglass stops, so I can walk around the room eating floating-frozen peanuts without using my hands. It’s been a huge challenge.
