Monday. August 21st. 2017. They talked about it for months before it happened, the first full eclipse in 38 years. A milestone. A once in a lifetime chance, for some, to see the moon hid the sun’s face. People packed picnics, drove for hours, were stuck in traffic. All waiting to see it. All wanting the best vantage point.
They cheered when the sun went out, when the light faded. When the darkness came. They cheered and shouted and laughed, then waited for the moon to move itself again. For the sun to reappear.
Only it never did.
Hours, days. A month. A year.
Some places, there is no eclipse. The sun shines. All day, all night, as if the sun stopped in the sky and the earth didn’t spin.
But some places are still dark. As dark as if everlasting night has fallen. It won’t end. Not for us. We live by the light of the stars, keep watch over a dead land full of shadows.
People left in the beginning. Almost everyone did. Only a few of us stayed, preferring the night to the crowded cities, the packed places where daylight reigned. A whole side of the earth was left in darkness, and the places were the sun still shines are mobbed by people looking for the light.
Hoping that there, at least, the sun wouldn’t go out.