Sun

"Do you think it will ever rise again?" she asked while looking on to the horizon. It was an abyss of nothingness. It looked cramped with darkness. She trembled as though she heard a soft voice crying out in agony from beyond those light-absent lands.

"It will," he said reassuringly and sat beside her in the damp grass. She looked at him, confused for he would never have wanted to sit on damp grass or anything damp for that matter. He said it would wet his pants and make him look embarrassing, not that anyone would care. She turned her attention to the darkness again and hugged her feet, resting her chin on her knees. It was cold too. She bemoaned she'd forgotten where she kept her jacket.

"How can you be sure?" she asked lazily. They have had this conversation for a while now. And each time before she could have the answer, he would walk away or stay silent. Either of this is going to happen again, she reckoned.

"Hmmm," came the reply. She sat up and looked at him. Does he have an answer at last, she wondered. The sun hasn't been rising in a long time. People have grown so accustomed to the darkness that they hardly even get bothered now. But he was different. He retained hope.

"Do you still remember how the sun looks like?" he asked in uncannily fashion. She rolled her eyes. She was expecting an intellectual answer, not a question-answer. She shrugged and mumbled, "I don't remember."

He chuckled. She nudged him hard that he almost fell to the ground. It was effective in stopping his tease. They sat in silence again.

The frogs began to croak.

"They're singing for the rain now," he said. She nodded.

"I still remember how the sun feels like," he said. Her eyes opened and they were focused on him.

"I still remember how it looks like too," he said, softly, looking at her eyes and continued, "Will you smile for me?"

She let out a huge sigh and closed her eyes. Then a sudden warmth embraced her. She felt his heartbeat.

"My sun is right here," he said.