A peculiar focus comes over the old man as he washes dishes. The oil in the sink makes a little rainbow where the sun strikes it. His watch is slipped to the inside of his wrist. He turns it outward. The droplets from the sink sprayed on the surface of the glass are dazzling. The strap on his wrist is a few notches too loose.
"Hm," he wonders, "I must not have put it on right this morning. I must have missed the notch this morning when I put it on."
Though he reaches to adjust it, his fingers have momentarily so many details, digits, moving them in coordination is almost impossible. The watch drops into the suds. He leans over, putting a hand on the rim of the sink to balance, but his hand is slack, it slips.
He falls to the floor. The soapy water reflects rippling sunlight onto the ceiling. The room seems incredibly bright.
"I wonder what time it is," he thinks, his last thought.
16 December 2016