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Through the slats of the stacked-up pallets I’m squeezed in behind, I see the barrel of the .38 that left me to bleed out on the floor stick past the door frame. I hoped that it, and the waste of skin with his chubby little sausage finger pressed against the trigger, would’ve assumed a job well done and buggered off. But, just my luck, it looks like that little prick Eugene wants to make sure what’s left of my sorry life is at its end.

The pistol comes into full view. A pudgy face with a crazed grin, nearly splitting it in two, shows soon after. Didn’t think I could hate it more than I already do, but I was wrong. Before the door closes, cold wind and a few scattered snowflakes push into the room, along with the echo of a Christmas carol pouring from a loudspeaker down the street. Eugene walks slow across the open floor, eyes searching every corner, sometimes twice. I think I’m done for, but I’m deep enough in the shadows that he passes by without noticing me.

With a clear view of his back, I wish I had the strength to get up and kick him in his underused micro-penis, just like I used to do when we were kids. Course, I didn’t really mean it back then. It was something to do. Now, given the opportunity, I’d give it all I’ve got.

Who would have guessed that we’d be two of the only ones from our generation not to have dreams of moving to the big city? When you live in a place called Last Chance, typically, it’s a given. I still haven’t figured out my excuse, but Eugene’s family has been here for generations. They founded the place for all I know. Probably been running things behind the scenes the whole time. Politicians and cops. Money and drugs. This town’s their own personal puppet show. Too bad I stumbled into something without meaning to and threatened to cut the strings.

Eugene takes a few more tentative steps before circling back to the entrance. I try not to make sad little girl noises as I draw my hand away from the oozing wound in my side and reach out for my blade. As my fingers wrap around the handle, it occurs to me I’ve only got one shot at this, and I need to make it count.

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Photo by Maxim Hopman on Unsplash

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Lucinda blinks as the edge of a heavy shadow eclipses her. High above, a fast-moving cloud fills the late afternoon sky. She shifts closer to her husband and pulls the blanket at her feet up to her knees as the porch swing sways. “Do you ever think about the sun?”

Faron brings his attention to Lucinda’s hand on his bare chest. “What about it.”

“If it stopped shining. Just disappeared. Do you know what will happen?”

Faron squints. “Off the top of my head? It would be dark.”

Lucinda closes her eyes and bites her bottom lip. Faron waits for confirmation of his assumption. When it becomes clear his wife won’t continue without him showing more interest, he sighs and asks the expected question slow and without emotion. “How much worse?”

Lucinda leans into Faron’s shoulder and turns her eyes up to his. “Outside of the changes in gravity, all human life would end within the first two days. We’d all freeze to death. After two months, the oceans will freeze over. After the atmosphere collapses, the planet will be a radioactive wasteland careening through space forever, or at least until it hits something of similar or greater size and is destroyed.”

Faron forces a hint of a smile. “Fun.”

Lucinda frowns from one side of her mouth. “Yeah.” She studies Faron’s face a moment longer before finding it hard to maintain her focus. “It’s been on my mind lately. It seems the perfect metaphor for loss. When your light goes away, it takes what was holding your feet to the ground. You become cold. Lifeless. You wander without direction until one day it all ends for good.”

Faron rests his hand on the back of Lucinda’s head, smoothing her coal-black curls. “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

Lucinda guides the tips of her fingers down the raised skin on the center of Faron’s chest, healed, but discoloured. “Not yet.”

Faron opens his mouth, but the response disappears before forming enough to be spoken. Instead, he kisses her forehead and turns away.

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Photo by Jordon Conner on Unsplash

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