I watched them today from across the hall. A mother and daughter. The mother was ninety-eight. That is a number that commands gravity. It is a number that says I have seen nearly a century of sunrises, and I am no longer interested in rushing through them. In my line of work, time is usually an enemy. It is a vital sign we measure, a clock we race against, and a schedule we are perpetually behind on. We treat time like a vanishing resource, something we are constantly losing