She's Gone

Forty years time.
That's how long it takes for Earth's crust to cool
after the sun is gone from the sky.

She left without saying goodbye.
Now, there's nothing keeping friends like Mars and Venus close together;
we all go on our separate paths.

Earthians are left with thousands of days
and one starry, lonely night.
What are we to do?

Some of us will forsake the sky altogether
and live on to toil the cold, dark earth
with only our mother's molten core to keep us warm.

Others will give chase.
Futilely leaving home behind
trying to hold onto the way things used to be.

Still others will broaden their horizons
by sailing to new worlds with reckless abandonment
in search of a new conquest.

For myself, I will be content.
Watching the world go by,
trying to make the most of this longest night before I die.

I turned my chair slightly. There was a monotonous ringing from just beside me. A click followed, a shrill scream, then indecipherable noises as an exchange took place. I could see the thing violently shaking as a stream of white emanated from its top. I always liked to press this against my cheek when it was still fresh, and feel its soft warmth. Then all was silent once again, bar a gentle sound of moving air. I watched this same series of events three or four times a day, yet I never grew tired of it. And every time it happened, I thought of her, the girl that used to sit where now the fax machine.

And if I wasn't me, maybe, just maybe I would've thought of other things too.