fighting the sun.

The sun set at exactly eight thirty-seven pm. He had checked on the internet earlier, just like he had done for the past one year, four months, and six days. Having written this information down on his inner forearm he made to arrive exactly one hour earlier- just as he had done every day before.

His new shoes scuffed against the linoleum floor, over its scarred, worn surface. Led by his feet and routine he soon found himself standing in the middle of the gym, where at another time and date two very tall basketball players, many inches taller than him, would jump to gain possession of a large, orange ball.

Tilting his head heavenward he gazed up at the windows that opened up the wall just a few feet from the ceiling; three, wide windows with bars over the glass, cutting up the light into equal sized portions on the weathered floor. The window in the middle shone the sun’s last hour of light down onto the tips of his shoes, warming his toes and leaving the rest of his body in the shadow.

Standing there, knees locked and eyes in constant watch, he waited. The sunlight crept past the tips of his shoes and up to his ankles; crawled up his shins and onto his knees; washed over his thighs and glinted off his belt buckle; enveloped his stomach, and chest, and neck. And finally, finally inched his way up past his chin and tightly drawn lips, leapt over his pointed nose, and forced itself into his eyes.

There he stood- the last minute of sun blazing into his glaring eyes, fists clenched in insolent defiance. Knowing, knowing all too well that in a little over twenty seconds the sun would be gone, and that he would still be there standing, alone in a darkened gym.