The sun goes dark.

The world is knocked askew.

The earth shakes. Bridges tumble into the sea. Prophets proclaim the end of days.

Beasts flee an unexpected night. The calls of birds fill the air. Ancient runes stir to their purpose, uncomprehending.

The sun goes dark.

The people rejoice.

Now, we are freed from those accursed rays. Now, we have escaped the heat. Now, we are bathed in moonlight. Now, the world might yet be saved.

The sun goes light.

The birds and beasts stir from a flicker of sleep.

The runes fall quiet.

The people disperse. Nothing has changed. Nothing was gained but memory. Nothing but joy and wonder, and the hope that the sun might yet grow dark again.

The world comes back into alignment.

The sen goes light.

But one of the trees in my backyard makes a very good pinhole projector.
The sun goes dark, and the people of Garmund march around the city walls, singing.
The sun goes dark, and the wind blows cold over the black sky. The queen gives birth to a son who does not cry. When he grows up, he doesn't speak either. He becomes a great mage.

I'm not in the path of totality, but I am going to see the partial eclipse in a few hours.

--Ls