William sat on the wooden swing in the garden, letting it move slowly back and forth while he looked up at the evening sky. The sun had begun to sink behind the trees, painting the horizon in soft shades of orange and pink that spread gently across the clouds. The warm light touched his weathered face, settling in the lines of age that had formed after a long life well lived. A small, peaceful smile curved his lips as he watched the sky slowly change.
"I don't know how many days I have left," he said softly, his voice calm and thoughtful. "Sometimes I sit here and wonder about it. I am eighty-nine now, and yet I still wake up every morning feeling quite well. I still manage some work. I still walk around the garden." He gave a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "The doctors are confused. My children are confused. Honestly, I am confused too."
