2018-09-23 19:47 fiction flash-fiction science-fiction Benjamin Brood

The Sun Is Gone

When did the sun go away. One morning it didn't rise. This is impossible, the smartest of us said, without it we wouldn't exist. Something must be blocking it, the second smartest of us said. This is a theory we agreed with, true, something must be blocking the sun. What if it was stolen? I suggested. Everyone laughed. Ridiculous, to steal a sun. I flushed in embarrassment. I went back to my duties as they discussed the situation. We must preserve resources, we must create a way to unblock the sun, we must create a second smaller sun, we must be ready to act. There were many suggestions, all of them vigorous. But the sun is gone, I wanted to say. Look for clues. Maybe there's a trail. Can you drag away a sun without leaving a little something behind? It's like a jelly, I thought.

It began to get cold. The sun is missing they said, we can tell because it's getting so cold. Finally, I thought, now we're getting somewhere. They discussed what to do next, the talking became tense. We should go, several of them said. I didn't know how they planned to do that, I mean why were we here in the first place? Why hadn't we already left? The temperature continued to drop. There is no sun, I reminded them. Yes, yes, they said, we know this, this is what we are discussing. I returned to my tasks.