Worse Than Death III

Written by  on October 16, 2015 

The sunset is approaching.

You look at the sun, faded glory, and you track its progress across the sky. You think it can’t have much time left, but then it does something totally unexpected. It veers off to the north. Or it backtracks across the sky a little. It breaks through the clouds a bit and shine a little brighter. You can almost feel the warmth,¬†almost.

But it’s an illusion. It is your memory of the warmth. But the illusion is wrong and you are primed to¬†believe it. You think that maybe, somehow, the sun could track all the way east to that bright morning that seems to close and so far.

You are impatient. “Just move, damn it. Do something. Anything. Set already.”

And you are horrified by the thought because of course you don’t want the sun to go away because that sun, that one, is never coming back. So you feel shame and guilt because while you don’t want it gone, you do want it gone. It serves no purpose.

Hell, the sun doesn’t even know it’s the sun anymore.

Category : Writing

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