The Snow Kept Falling

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.

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.

Long enough for generations. For civilization to arise and mature. For history, accomplishments, and things that matter.

The snow kept falling.

It's up to our rooflines, and there's no indication of letting up. 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?

The snow kept falling.

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.

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

The snow kept falling.

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