The Sands of Time Scattered on the Floor

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Lying on my bed, watching the sands slip through the hourglass, filling its floor as time marched on. Yet the call won't come and the clock won't stand still. He said he'd call me, he promised me he'd call. Was he with another girl? The thought invaded my mind as heartache pierced my chest. Was I stood up? It's impossible, it can't be... yet it was an hour past when he said he'd call. In a frustrated impulse I grabbed the pillow and sent it and the hourglass flying across the room, shattering it against the wall. Not wanting to see it, I threw my face into the sheets and let the tears flow. Against the wall there was a pile of sand, and the time of the hourglass was still. But that didn't mean that time would be kind enough to stop as well.