The boy was floating. It was so relaxing, he felt so light, so untethered. He didn't know what he would see when he opened his eyes, he didn't care. It was so peacefull, as he was. He was so comfortable, simply floating, no regard to when or where or why. He felt as though he could stay, eyes closed, floating peacefully forever. There was no need to open his eyes, no need to move, nothing to disturb him, no one to call to him.

And yet, what was that noise? Softly at first, it was barely noticeable, but then it grew, despite the volume never changing, until he could hear nothing but that noise. At first he thought he could ignore it, but it only got more and more noticeable, till finally, his eyes flew open. He was laying in water, was the first thing he noticed. Water that was neither warm nor cool, only there. His hair was floating in the water, light and uncumberson. The space around him was completely white, unstained by colour, nothing to mark the difference between the sky and the ground. Such a perfect place. And yet, that sound continued, every moment it grew more grating, more iratating.

Reluctantly he sat up, and his hair flopped wetly against his neck, and dripped down his wet back. He suddenly became aware of his arms, now so heavy at his side, and he forced himself to stand up entirely. His body felt too heavy, too awkward, like he was in someone else's body. The noise drew his attention again, and he turned slowly to see, on a shore no less white than the sky, next to the oh-so-clear creek, flowing softly, an hourglass. Almost subconsciously, he reached to adjust his glazes, then stopped. Why would he be wearing glasses? He had perfect vision, after all.

He shook the thought out of his head, and approached the hourglass. It was much bigger than he initially thought, towering over him as he got closer. It was leaking, ever so slowly, a fine white sand into the lower half. There, he finally saw what was the causing the noise. A man, who appeared to be around 19 or 20 was curled up inside, surrounded by the sand, sniffling. His head was ducked, and his shoulders bent, the picture of misery. The boy was curious now, and no longer agrravated by the noise.

He put his hand to the glass. "excuse me," He began, his own voice sounding pathetically small against the great white space. "Why are you crying?" the man in the hourglass, froze and slowly lifted his head to face the boy. Tears spilled from his violet eyes behind his glasses, and a single curl waved freely with his head movement. The sand continued to fall around the man, piling up, as though to cover him, but the man seemed oblivious to his oncoming end. He made no move to answer the boy's question, only stared at him hopelessly.

The more the boy stared at him, the more familiar he seemed, as though he should know this person from somewhere. "Who are you?" The boy asked again. For a moment it seemed like the man would not answer this question either, but then, in a soft, yet echoing voice, the man repeated the question back. "Who are you?" the boy was beginning to frown. The water was dripping down his back and tickling uncomfortably, and he felt so heavy and tired. "I don't know." The boy answered. The man smiled, sadly, as though he had been expecting this answer. "We're the same." He said simply.

The boy put his hand to the glass of the hour glass and noticed his reflection for the first time. The man, stood up mimicking his motion, and also touched the hourglass. The boy's eyes widened as his own reflection lined up perfectly with the man's inside. Every facial feature, from the eyes, to the nose, to the lips, all matched up. As though they were the same person. He dropped his hand in shock. "Do you see?" the man said softly, dropping his own hand. "It's like that."

The sand was piling over his thighs now, reaching his waist. The boy felt a sudden terror, a fear he'd never felt before. "The sand!" he said urgently. "You'll drown!" The man nodded, sagely, unafraid. "We're running out of time." The boy slammed his hand against the edge of the glass, sharply, but the glass was unaffected. "It won't break!" He pleaded, tears escaping unwanted, mingling with the streams of water dripping from his hair to his face. "Of course not." The man responded. "The sands of time have been turned back. I can't come out anymore."

"then what do I have to do so you can come out?" the boy begged, desperately. The man tipped his head sadly, and smiled pitifully. "But you know," He responded in a low voice, "The only way for me to come out if for you to take my place." The boy faltered. He was much smaller than the man, he knew, and would drown much faster. He knew that, but still- "I'll do it!" he said, his voice trembling. "I don't want you to die!" The man put his hand on the glass where the boy rested his once more. "Can you answer a question for me?" the boy was shaking now, with fear, with the force of unshed tears, with emotions his small body couldn't handle. "Oui." He responded, lasping into French. The man met his eyes evenly as he asked the question.

"Who am I?"