This prompt is from Alastair’s Photo Fiction.
Time isn’t silent anymore.
My grandparents have a large, beautiful house in the South. When I was younger, we visited every other weekend. If it was sunny, I’d spend most of the day in their garden. It was like another world to me. I was fascinated by the exotic looking plants and well-placed rockery. Best of all, there was a sun dial placed in the centre.
I’d stare at it, waiting for the shadow to move. I knew it did slide across the dial, just never when I was watching.
I have a feeling, if I looked at it now, I’d see the shadow steadily marching across the stone. I wait in the hospital room, linked to numerous tubes and machines, and I can feel time passing. I can hear it roaring past me. Unlike the flow of water, time doesn’t slow as the supply runs low. The last drops run the fastest.