A Clock in the Sun

I stopped beside the stone pedestal in the garden courtyard. Bolted flat to the top was a circular bronze sundial. In the center, a triangular gnomon stood upright, casting a sharp, angled shadow across the engraved numerals. I rested two fingers against the cool stone rim to steady myself. The dark line fell clean across the Roman numeral two, leaning just a fraction toward the three. I held my palm over the fin, blocking the midday light. The shadow vanished, leaving only bare metal. When I moved my hand away, the straight line cut sharp across the face again. It keeps its own time.