I shake my head. I need to remain in the room. If I leave, it will be even more stressful to enter again. I must try to get into the zone. The zone in athletics is when you don’t feel like you’re making any effort at all, and the world is completely shut out. It’s wonderful! I breathe slowly and focus on the first line of my poem:

Is infinity ingrained in 11 missing days?

But at the same time, I can hear Anno begin her talk and I jump when I hear ‘Infinity-Glass’. Mrs Zhong has placed a large hourglass on a small centre table to the right of Anno. I do what-big-eyes; on the museum website there was no photo, just an entry saying: ‘Recently acquired, 1752 maritime sandglass with engraved infinity symbols, oak, black sand. To mark the 11 missing days.’ That’s what I based my poem on. I’ve always loved the symmetry of an hourglass and I was excited by the infinity symbols, but had no idea it would be so beautiful.

It’s the same height as a relay baton and made of dark wood that’s very worn and blackened in places. The bases at each end and the three connecting columns are engraved with infinity signs: ∞ ∞ ∞! The sand inside the glass bulbs is black and grainy and looks like glitter, exactly how I imagined it. As Mrs Zhong turns the hourglass upside down, for a split second, I see the infinity symbol in the shape of the glass, too: ∞. Then it looks like a number 8 as the sand begins to pour through and I focus on Anno’s voice.

‘Imagine it’s 1752. Time changes on your ship when you sail around the earth so you leave your traditional clock at home. Marine sandglasses tell the time on board a ship; accurate mechanical timepieces that can cope with the conditions at sea are yet to be invented.’

Excitement takes over from anxiety. I can’t focus on all of Anno’s talk but some words come through like ‘1752’ and ‘engravings’ and ‘maritime’ which, like marine, means of the sea. I’m staring at the Infinity-Glass with a strong sense of déjà vu: the ∞ symbol is the sign of The Infinites. But I must try to focus on the here and now. Anno’s voice has gone lower and slower; her speech will soon end: