The Dusty Trail of the Setting Sun

"I don't know why I'm doing this."

"Don't like the lights so much, do you?"

This was the third time I had heard that same question. The first time was from my wife, the second time was from my brother, and now it was from a complete stranger. It caught me off guard each and every time.

I was in a bar of all places.

"What do you mean?" I asked, with a hint of defensive hostility in my voice.

The man next to me let out a sigh and turned to face me. His eyes were hard; he had seen many things in his life. He took a drink of his beer. There was a scar on his cheek that looked very fresh, as if it had just happened sometime in the last few hours. He put his glass down, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and then looked at me again.

"You know what I mean," he said. "Why are you here? Why are we here? You're drinking at ten o'clock in the morning."

I felt my heart flutter in my chest as I chalked up the butterflies to excitement rather than fear. "I'm waiting for the sun to set," I told him.

He nodded and leaned back against the bar counter behind him. "I've been waiting for it to rise." He paused for a moment and stared into his beer glass again before continuing, looking up at me with his deep blue eyes that seemed like a bottomless ocean in its intensity. "Seems like an eternity since I've seen it rise," he said. "But it's not as bad as not seeing it set." His voice trailed off into nothingness as he looked down at his glass again and took another sip of beer.

---

That was two years ago today. Things have changed quite a bit since then. Before the sun set forever, we only had the occasional day where the clouds or rain would obscure the sunset. Nowadays, we hardly ever get any sunlight at all, unless you count the moonlight reflecting off of everything that isn't covered by clouds, dust storms, ash clouds, or whatever other phenomena block out the sky. The current situation is uncertain – it could last for months or even years but likely not decades; just enough time for things to change but not so much that people forget what life was like before this calamity began.

For now, though, situations are deteriorating, and nobody knows the cause or how much worse it will get both locally and globally. There is no way to plan for anything, except waiting for something to happen – even if that something is inevitably disastrous. It's always when people stop taking proactive measures and start trying to figure out what exactly is happening, rather than reacting to past experiences, that terrible events befall them. So here we are, wondering how long until we're forced out into the open once more, just as we were last time when those ruthless individuals took advantage of our vulnerability.

Two years have passed since that fateful day, and I can't help but imagine how satisfying it would be if they showed up again right on my two-year anniversary. I'm tired of living in fear, of merely surviving on meager scraps! No more hiding in basements all day, worrying about the welfare of far-off loved ones we can't aid. No more fearing for our children's survival against the myriad dangers lurking in these squalid conditions, where dire living situations have led to new and unknown diseases spreading like wildfire.

We will have our revenge! One day – perhaps today, tomorrow, next week, or even next year – they will make their move again because they always have eventually over hundreds of thousands of years when human progress seemed secure. We will be ready for them. They may be stronger than us, even stronger than nature itself and more powerful than any deity, but we will not be deterred. We will take back our cities and our lives one step at a time until everything is ours again – the buildings, the streets, the simple comforts of electricity and running water... even our most cherished embraces and intimate moments will once again belong to us and not be tainted by their presence. So to those who have disrupted our lives and oppressed us for so long, I say this: Beware! Your time is limited, for we are rising against you, reclaiming what was stolen from us, and we will not go gentle into that good night."