316 A Winter's Tale: The Snow Kept Falling—Orbital Wrath

The snow kept falling.

We knew this day might come, but after thousands of years of sunshine and fair weather, we didn't know much about it. Some things stay the same so long that whole religions are based upon them.

We had to change our religion.

An elliptical orbit plays havoc with a world. Having a large moon plays a part, and most learned men felt that was what maintained our fair weather for so long. Fair weather—as constant as the Moon rising every night.

Stability, when measured in generations, is long enough for civilization to arise and mature. For history, accomplishments, and things that matter. Things like how we live. What we accomplish. Things like us.

The snow kept falling.

It's up to our rooflines, and there's no indication that it will let up any time. Where on the swing of the orbital arc we are, revolving around our star, no one knows. When will we cross aphelion and begin returning back toward perihelion and sunny skies and running water? And how we live and what we accomplish?

The snow kept falling. We kept climbing.

Only the tallest structures' spires are visible now above our blanket of ice and snow. We keep ascending higher within our buildings to escape the solidity of the frozen tundra thickening around us. Yet, I wonder about the poor, the elderly, the impaired — who cannot climb as we do; who can't pump artificial heat like we do as we trek up the stories we colonize. Warmth rises with us. But for how long?

The snow kept falling, and all the desperate succumbed to the cold. Even the able and young.

The snow kept falling. We kept rising. While the weather seemed to have no limits, ceiling heights did.

The light at the end of our tunnel was not bright. It was dark. It was made of tar and shingles and doom. We kept rising, as our ceiling kept lowering.

In five thousand years, when the world returns to perihelion and thaws, what is there — to evolve and become a civilization one day— will sit, obliviously, atop the thousands of previous civilizations who thought they mattered.

________

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

For Monday, November 11, Day 316 of the 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge.

363 WORDS (without A/N)

50 DAYS TO GO! THIS UNSEASONABLE WINTER WEATHERS ON, 366 FLAKES A DAY.

There are currently three cold Vocal writers in this 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge:

• L.C. (11th floor) Schäfer

• Rachel (12th floor) Deeming

• Gerard (13th—13th?—floor) DiLeo