Johannes Punkt’s Flaskpost

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Tag: the sun

How Little Girls in Schoolyards Lie

Is it true that, at the bottom of a deep well, with your eyes adjusted to the darkness, if you look up you will always see stars? Down where there is always night unless the sun, directly above, reaches down for you?

The answer is no, there are no stars, they kept you here with only the gurgle of water for company, no bucket or ladder or sky, stone lid above your head. Once a day, the sun reaches for you, but it only has a minute or so and it is not enough.

She said they would be back.

Curtains, but No Windows

This room has curtains, but no windows. They hang in such a way as to suggest that they are blocking the sunlight. If you were to look behind them, you feel, sunlight would flow into the room like water from a burst dam. This is an illusion you keep with you. You know not if gravity still affects you. Your legs are touching the floor, you cannot lift your arms; but you got like this long ago. Your heavy heart. Maybe now you’ve moved somewhere where the sun is nothing but a distant star, where nothing pulls you home anymore.


It is night. The cover of clouds is thick enough that perhaps the sun has given up trying to get through. The air is cool, the seabreeze has lost most of its brine. Manhole covers ooze with steam. Cars are driving, slowly, just following the path of least resistance, and most green lights. Underneath, clockwork ticks and clicks and hums.

Something gets bored. In turn, something else clicks.

It is night, and the buildings are made of cold, dead rocks and brittle clay. There are faces in the windows, but not behind them.

All the lights turn green and shine.

The Big Crunch

As the universe shrinks, the sky lights up, and night is erased by the cold light from dead stars far away. All our probes and lonely radio transmissions start bouncing back on us, faster and faster in accordance with the speed of the shrinking. Everybody wears a wide-brimmed hat and dark shades. Our crops die, our insects too, and then there is too much death to enumerate properly. Our own sun seems unaware of it all, shining on like ever before. Our cities are blanched out, we flee underground, and we’re just waiting for the crumbling sound of everything dying.

The Sun Found its Goal

On the 7th of May 2012, the sun found its goal. Ever since birth the sun had been searching, looking for her all along, and it burned with twenty million furnaces just for a chance to see her. As it did, scrutinising the planet suddenly storming in joy, it stopped exerting its energy, and focused solely on her. So it came to be that from that moment until the next time she was under a roof or under a cloud, no-one else got sun. When it lost her again, it could not express its sorrow, but it continued searching, fiercer.

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