100 word story: Death of the sun

Jane Dougherty Writes

Vitrail: Notre Dame de l’Epine


On the rim of this last crepuscule, the flame-feathered sun sinks into night’s black maw, indifferent to the fate of the puny earth. When the jaws snap shut, locking down the last night across the planetary sky, there will be no more wrestling at dawn with the iron-bolted trap. The fingers, that since the first dawn have prised apart the bright horizon from the night, catch dead asteroids to toss among the stars. Fiery wings plunge into the hollow blackness beyond the sky, where space smothers all light, and the howling astral winds blow celestial feathers and flames into oblivion.

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