Still Image.

Dark room with shadows casting on all four walls. 

Light only enters from the door you opened slightly. After discovering it ajar. 

It was silence before the details start making their way into the picture. 

Deep breathing. The consistent fan blowing. Its rusty gears moving. Movement of air and dust particles dancing. 

Then you move your gaze to the body on the bed. 

Crumpled and tired; Dad’s usual.

Fast asleep. 

Maybe dreaming of the life he gave up. Or just dozed off after trying to up until the children are all home. Wondering what he would do when we leave the nest. Thinking about the distant wife he used to passionately love. 

You close the door. Turning a blind eye to how age is really catching up and time is no child’s play. 

Not anymore. 

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