I wrote this one for a 78 word story contest in Esquire Magazine.
The sun kills itself like no one expects it to. First it gets real hot, like 95 degrees in winter, but the people are okay.
They build these huge power plants that shoot lots of light-waste into space. They suck up as much sun as they can. The sun, pissed, burns up the ocean.
Then it starts getting tinier. Lots of clouds come back. The bouncing light-waste powers the eyes of the people and they see for now.
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