Only astrophysicists noticed the first time a star went missing. Only astrophysicists cared. Conjecture and theories ignited in the scientific stratosphere, burning up before reaching the rest of us. Like removing a grain of sand from the beach; it was an invisible and irrelevant loss.
An inconsequential hole in the sky.
As the holes grew in number, we started watching, started caring. The night took on a worn, frayed appearance; our sparkling blanket unravelled in front of us. The universe steadily disappeared.
We prayed. We cried. We fought.
Now? Now we watch. We wait.
We have little choice.
Word Count (100)
Ah, another Friday Fictioneers, and I’m another long bow from the photo prompt. I’m reasonably sure this is an Arctic scientific facility, but I saw the domes and thought: telescopes. Belted this out during a lunch break at work, so I haven’t had much editing time. Let me know if you spot typos or errors.
FYI – I know that meteors normally burn up in the mesosphere, but stratosphere just felt like a better word. It’s my story and I’ll lie if I want to.
Let me know what you think in the comments, and check out the other 100 word stories here!
Cheers and thanks for reading