THE SILENCE OF TIME
In the morning light, a platinum wristwatch, no longer useful, was discarded into a blue lake. The watch slowly danced in the water before sinking to the bottom. As it settled, it emitted a faint muddy smoke.
People coughed, and gray whispers hinted at malice toward one another. The vices of those who flatter the winners and abuse the losers never cease.
With invisible, black hatred in their hearts toward others, they went out with indifferent faces. In their haste to be on time, they had no choice but to slurp cold soup from a rusty iron spoon. Through the distant window, the pale scream of a mad horse echoed.
A few clam shells lingered in the soup, and the plate, left unwashed, sat on the white tablecloth. The battle itself was nearing its end—a futile fight. Without victory or defeat, the earth seemed stifled, and the dazzling azure sky folded in on itself.
Did we live our lives wrong? Or was it inevitable? Everyone fell silent and turned into ashes. Only the gears of the wristwatch, now buried in the lake's muddy depths, continued to spin.
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