Sinking

"What is happening?" the boy cried out, tears in his eyes, clutching at the old man's bending fingers. "Where are you going? Why do you grow smaller?"

"My dear boy," the elder coughed, collected himself, and continued: "Time at last has grabbed me by the foot of my soul, and is pulling me under." The boy let out a bitter sob. "Fear not for me, I can feel the grass already. But you, keep your foot on the path, until..." his voice fell very thin, "until it comes to sink for you too." He was gone.