by Jessy Cruise
"Look at it," Christine said, laughing delightfully. "Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it the most wonderful thing you've ever seen?"
Skip and Paula looked skyward, off to the southwest. There, about midway in the sky, a break in the clouds had magically opened, a brief rip caused by the intersection of two weather patterns perhaps. Visible in that small break, which encompassed less than a single degree of the sky, was the sun. The big, bright, orange ball that gave life to the planet hung there in the hole, shining in all of its glory; a sight no one had seen now in more than a year.
"The sun," Skip whispered, staring at it in awe. It really was a beautiful thing. He could feel its warmth upon his face, could feel the way his eyes tried to avert from its brightness. Surrounding it was the brilliant blue of the sky.
"It really is still there," Paula said beside him. "It really is."
"And maybe things really will be all right," Skip replied, still staring.
The break in the clouds would last for less than ten minutes before the curtains of cloud cover closed it back up again. But later that day there would be another opening, and the next day there would be yet another.