The Sand Clock That Stopped On Thursday

"First, let's agree on one rule: there is no time. What you are reading now might have happened yesterday, or will happen tomorrow, or perhaps it is happening the moment you close your eyes. The story does not follow a straight path; rather, it breathes and twists like blue smoke."

The Silent Chapter: The Monday That Never Came

Moayad" lived a square life. White walls, a nine-to-five office job, and black tea without sugar. His life was a tightly sealed checklist. On Monday, Moayad would wake up to the sound of his alarm clock at exactly seven in the morning. This was a constant fact.

But last Monday never came.

Moayad woke up as usual, to the sound of the alarm at seven. He looked out the window. The street was eerily quiet. There was no usual car movement, no sound of the bread seller. He grabbed his mobile phone. The date was stuck on "Sunday, October 14th." He tried to refresh it, but the counter refused to move.

"Well, maybe a glitch in the solar system," Moayad muttered, and went to his work.

Here, imagination intervenes: the outer door did not lead to the street, but to a long corridor of green carpet lit by old gas lamps. Moayad walked down the hall, a little confused, but his acquired routine overshadowed the strangeness of the situation. He reached his office; the corridor led him directly to it. He sat in front of his computer. The colleagues were there, but they were slightly transparent, resembling ghosts who hadn't decided to leave yet.

"Good morning, Enas," Moayad said to his transparent colleague.

"Time is not real, Moayad," she replied in a voice like the rustling of paper.

"Fine, can you at least send the sales report?" Moayad asked nervously.

Moayad realized his square life was starting to melt. His office suddenly turned into a giant aquarium where small blue whales swam, while "Enas" swam alongside them, carrying a waterproof laptop.

The Intersection Point: The Wednesday That Became a Thursday

Moayad no longer knew how much time had passed. The clocks stopped ticking, and the sun decided when to rise and set according to its mood. Moayad began to feel an internal conflict between his old routine and a strange desire to swim with the blue whales.

In a moment of clarity, he remembered the old "hourglass" he inherited from his grandfather. It sat on the bookshelf in his apartment, neglected for years. Moayad returned to his apartment (which occasionally appeared and disappeared, replaced by a tropical forest). He grabbed the hourglass. It was strange; the sand inside was shiny black and moved against gravity.

"This is the problem," Moayad whispered to the clock. "You are stuck."

Moayad flipped the clock over. Instead of the sand starting to fall, it stopped completely in the middle of the glass. Time froze. Not just in Moayad’s life, but in the entire world.

Now, Imagine yourself in this moment. You are now part of the story. Do you feel the air stop moving around you? Do you see the birds outside suspended in the air? This is what happened.

The Final Chapter: The Wisdom of the Black Sand

Everything stopped. The whales in the office stopped swimming. Enas stopped rustling like paper. Even Moayad's own thoughts became slow and frozen. Moayad was the only one who could move, because he was the one who had moved the clock.

Moayad realized something profound: the square life, the routine, Monday, Thursday—all of it was just sand in an hourglass. And when the sand stops, you have the option to arrange it however you wish.

Instead of restarting the clock the usual way, Moayad began using his fingers to move the black grains of sand manually, grain by grain, drawing new shapes inside the glass. He drew a giant tree. He drew a flying castle. He drew himself laughing freely.

When he finished drawing his new world with the sand, he blew on it gently. The sand moved as if alive, flowing out of the clock, transforming into a new reality around him. The white walls disappeared. The office turned into a flying castle. Enas was no longer a ghost; she was wearing flight gear and laughing loudly.

Today's date? It didn't matter. What mattered was that Moayad decided to live every day as a happy "Thursday," the day he freed himself from time.

The Conclusion

Remember, when you find yourself stuck in a boring routine, maybe you just need to flip your own hourglass and draw your own world. The end is not the end of the story; it is the beginning of what you choose it to be.