Intermission: Glass of Time


If only you’d ceased flowing…
Had you just poured faster…

My dearest wouldn’t be gone…
My precious would never have hurt…

??? by the ???, I ??? my finger over her beautiful ???

With her ???, she…

The book was abruptly closed and taken from her loose grip. She raised her head, looking up at the figure standing behind her. Her face didn’t betray it, but her eyes openly conveyed her displeasure. It was one thing to invade her personal space, standing so closely and reading over her shoulder, but snatching away her read was just plain rude.

At her incriminating stare, he merely replied, “Don’t read this kind of stuff until you’re older,” with an embarrassed connotation to his tone. It was difficult to make out his expression with the dim lighting, but it seemed to be somewhere between a frown and a blush.

She watched him put the book away on the highest shelf that even he could barely reach while vehemently muttering something – not very nice things, she gathered – about Guertena. As if to mock him, the book slipped from his fingers and fell back down, bouncing off his head before landing with a thud near her feet.

She bent down to help him pick it up, but he immediately snatched the book away before she could.

She held his gaze. His mouth opened to say something, but didn’t, and he went back to putting the book away. She didn’t understand why he needed to try so hard. Not like she could, or would, get the book if he left it any lower. She wasn’t so keen on reading something he clearly wasn’t going to help her read.

It was amusing, however, watching him pick a fight with the shelf that refused to receive the book.

In a corner of her young mind, she found herself hung up on his words. When would ‘older’ be? He was treating her like a child.

You’re really mature, aren’t you?”

He was treating her like a child despite saying things like that.

Just how much longer would she then be considered his equal?

I ??? to us; every time we ??? ??? I feel ???

??? myself to his flaming ???, I stroke his ???

Lips ??? in a ??? smile, he…

Why do you cling to the hand you ran from?

“Ib!” A voice shattered her trancelike daze as a weight rested on her shoulder. She met her friend’s soft blue eyes. “Don’t look so wistful. Haven’t you been looking forward to this?” The blonde leaned into the crook of her neck and gave her waist a firm hug from behind.


“Come on, I’m really glad you’re going with me.”


“So, is that all?”

She glanced around her room, drinking in the familiar angles that would soon become far away. They were all so dear that she found herself hesitating. But… she didn’t want to take any of them along.

The girl looked down at the simple object in her hands. “This is everything.” Her fingers curled around the cold, delicate glass; she held it tight.

The door to her room closed behind her. Together with her best friend, she went down the stairs and out to the front porch. Her parents were waiting for them. Their entire luggage had been mounted, and she only needed to join them on the car. She slowed, letting the blonde pass her by to turn around and look at the mansion that had cradled her childhood. It wasn’t goodbye forever, so why was she so restless? Her eyes locked onto the slanted window wall where her room was.

She heard her parents calling. The engine started to rumble.

I love you, Ib… I wish we could stay like this…”

The things she was used to having, things she’d taken for granted… gone. She wanted them back.

True… Take any hand you want.

The blonde held out a waiting hand, impatiently urging her lest they’d be late.

Sand was falling steadily between her fingers.

She gave a discreet smile and breezed past her friend. “Last person in gets to pull the suitcases,” she said over her shoulder. The blonde responded in kind and they raced the short distance to the car.

Doors slammed shut, and the car sped off. Looking out the window, she watched the mansion slowly sink behind the curtain of trees. Her fingers fiddled with the treasured keepsake.

The road ahead was straight.

Hourglass, Hourglass lying horizontal

Why is it so easy to tip you over?

Why is it impossible to quench the flow of time?

Glass of Time

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