This flash fiction story is written for Friday Fictioneers. My little story follows the picture prompt.
The decision to move his dad to Hospice care had been the most difficult decision he had ever had to make in his life.
He was seventy years old himself. At least he could take care of his dad he thought. And then the thought crossed his mind that there was no one to take care of him. But he still had time to find an answer to that question.
“What time is it, is that what you said dad?’
A withered finger crept from under the sheets and pointed toward his mouth. “It’s time” he wheezed. “It’s over.”