The Dying Sun

The television’s light was the only source of illumination in the otherwise dark, humid room. The window was open. The window panes swayed slightly with the blowing wind. The air was heavy as if it carried the weight of the melancholic humanity. the table on which the television was placed was moldy now, the wood reeked foul smell, as if fungus had permanently muddled inside, turning the wood hollow.

There was no sound. The television was on mute. On the screen, a news anchor was reporting something. His mouth formed words that couldn’t be heard. The screen was distorted. The upper screen was tilted to some extent while the lower part was misshapen by lines of red and green. The anchor looked funny. Even without the deformed screen, it felt like he was worried, anxious even. Anchors weren’t supposed to look like that. Suddenly the screen shifted. The blue background was now replaced by the view of a large air ship. It resembled a zeppelin. But the disfigured screen couldn’t show the perfect view. The camera zoomed on the doors. There was a stair leading to the doors just like that of an airplane. People were waving, smiling, laughing happily as the entered into the ship. American president said a few words before boarding the air ship and the other president and prime ministers followed quickly after. Then there were military chiefs, marching inside. Soon came the actors, the influencers, the singers, the entertainers, the industrialists, the rich. They all boarded the airship, smiling and waving. There was a crowd of people below. The camera never zoomed on them. it kept the focus on the airship and its passengers. The anchor was back now, his expression now even more disturbed but he kept on reading the news, trying to keep his face unaffected and emotionless, but it was clear that he was failing at his attempts to hide the contempt and misery that was apparently the unwanted guest at the dinner table of all the people who were not in the ship at the moment.

A red headline appeared on the screen, glistening under the image of the anchor.

“The first ever airship on its way to find hope for the humanity”

The news continued unless chiko finally entered the room. He took out the plug not bothering with the remote and the room plunged into absolute putrid darkness. He hesitated for a moment before pulling the windows shut. He shut the door after him. He spotted his father, sitting faraway, on the edge of the wall, his faint shadow looming behind him. It was nearly dusk. Chiko ran to him. He smiled at his son before patting the rough bricks beside him, gesturing him to sit down with him. Chiko obliged, sitting right next to him.

“They say they’re gonna come back for us”, he said, rubbing his hands on his thighs. The sun was barely a red spot in the distance, slowly drowning in the west.

“Maybe they will”, his father replied, tousling Chiko’s hair.

“What if they don’t?”, Chiko asked, looking at the sky which was now colored with patches of bruised purples and dying vermilions.

“What does it matter?”, his father said simply, staring at the sun.

The east sky was completely dark now. Stars had started twinkling on the far east of the horizon. A thick mist had started to spread, slowly creeping into theie very skins. Chiko looked down at the streets. People were on their way home. but it wasn’t their usual evening. A man was loose tie, carrying a suitcase, was silently weeping as he walked. Another old man, carried his one year old grandaughter pointing at the sun. the child giggled in excitement and the old man cried at the sight. The birds were not even chirping today. The sun was barely visible now.

“we will be stuck on earth”, chiko finally said what he feared.

“I like Earth”, his father shrugged, his gaze still fixed on the Sun.

“but how will we live without the sun?”, he voice wavered.

His father finally looked at him, “we will survive”, he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Maybe he was well assured that this was the last lie he would tell his son.

Chiko felt tears fill his eyes. His vision turned blurry. His father took his son’s face in his hands. “why don’t we enjoy the sun for one last time, together?”

Chiko rubbed his eyes with his palms and looked at the sun. it was the last time they were gonna see it. the sun wouldn’t rise tomorrow. the sky was now mostly dark, except the brilliant red surrounding the dying sun. the sky will always be dark from now on. The days were already so much short with them getting only a few hours of daylight. But the daylight would completely disappear now, they would never be able to see the bright blue sky with the yellow orange colors.

“its beautiful”, Chiko said.

“it is”, his father nodded.