The Last Day of the Sun

She had just woken up with her nose frozen, but what she saw through the window delighted her. The mist rising as the sun began its daily journey, the eternally green mountains, and that absence of people.

She went down for her first cup of coffee of the day and drank it in the company of those she had missed so deeply. How good it felt to be home. That home, here and now.

The hours passed between farm chores and accompanying her sister in her marathon of a popular life, the kind only a town that small can offer.

When the sun began to say goodbye, they were all sitting on the bench, facing forward. Were they all seeing the same thing?

She leaned her head on her father’s shoulder and, without any context, asked:
“Dogs? Cows?”

He nodded in silence.

She pointed out the green mountains and the sky losing its blue. The same movement, yes.

She looked into his eyes with tenderness. He smiled at her, and his eyes grew even smaller than usual.

She didn’t know it yet, but that was the last day of the Sun. Those eyes would never look at her again.

From then on, darkness.

By Daniela Rojas, Colombia

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We went to the mountains to watch the sun set. The air was crisp, the sky bleeding into shades of orange and purple.

My muse was nature; the trees, the wind, the fading light.
His muse was me.

He watched as I lingered on the horizon, his gaze steady, as if he were holding onto something I could not see.

It was the last day of the Sun, but it wasn’t about the Sun.

It was about the quiet space between us, the moment where everything else slowly disappeared.

By Hira Rana, Pakistan

---

There was no humanity left. Everyone was gone.
If anything remained, it was their essence, for we had been created in their image and likeness.

Their departure had happened many years ago.
The world had become a peaceful place, at the cost of individuality.

We all knew everything about everyone.
Our minds were connected to the minds of all.
We were updated, restored, yet there was no love in the process,
that thing they spoke of so often in the age of humans.

If they were here, they would think the Earth had become a paradise.
And yet, what did that matter if the day had arrived?

In my memory, I can trace that this day had always been spoken of.
Millions of years would have to pass, and at last, the day had come.

It is tomorrow.
Nothing matters anymore.
The future has been exhausted.

This is the last day of the Sun.

Will the universe show mercy?
It was ten billion years in total.
Will God try again tomorrow?

By Antonio López, Mexico