A Circular Shadow

I walked from the workshop down to the quiet town green. In the center of the lawn, a flat circular stone sundial rested on a low pedestal. A broad brass gnomon cast a sharp, dark wedge across the etched Roman numerals. I stopped. The shadow was creeping at a slow, imperceptible pace across the curved brass border. Instead of trying to straighten it, I climbed up the weathered stone plinth. I stepped carefully onto the flat stone face, following the sharp boundary of the shade. Then I sat down squarely within the coolness of the dark angle, leaning my back against the slanted metal fin. The steady tick of daylight slipped by, and I held still.