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Night

The news stations were abuzz. Talking heads talked about something coming, something years ahead. Scientists scurried, politicians soothed, clergy prayed.

Time wore on. The sun in the sky grew dimmer and dimmer. The days shrank and the nights swelled People panicked. Storefronts shattered, buildings went up, cars went over.

In New York State, millionaires shoved money at whoever promised them even another day. In Beverly Hills, starlets slunk into their mansions and waited, their bodyguards and nannies deserted. The border with Mexico broke wide open, as Americans frantically sought sunlight; in Rio, the sun rose at nine and set at five. Eight full hours of day.

On August 18, it began to snow. The day began dark but dry. Within hours, five feet of snow was on the ground. From the tip of Canada to the Mexican Peninsula, dirty flakes mingled in the crisp air.

By Halloween, it was snowing in Rio, now a city of shanty towns, rape, murder, and famine, much like before only now the victims were movie stars, football players, writers, and middle class Americans.

On Christmas Day, the cloud cover broke, and the few survivors, clad in tattered parkas and pilfered boots, watched the sun grow smaller, smaller, smaller, and then wink out of existence.

Then it was night forevermore.

Story by:

Joseph Rubas

24 November 2013