jml297

Arnold didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Solar eclipses were surprisingly common, albeit limited regarding where they could be observed. For weeks, there had been media hype about the upcoming eclipse, including lists of places with the best vantage points. As he told anyone who would listen, with variable weather conditions at this time of year, there was a strong likelihood that cloud cover would obscure the sky anyway.

On the way to his office this morning, he’d spotted several people wearing t-shirts with slogans about the eclipse. Some of them indicated that it would be a precursor to the end of the world, which was taking things too far in his opinion. He had tried to discuss this in detail with one of the strangers on his train during the morning commute, but they’d just shaken their head and pointed at the tiny black buds in their ears to indicate that conversation was an impossibility.

It was a moot point, as the eclipse was due to happen at 4.47 pm today, and Arnold didn’t finish work until 5.30 pm. He knew that others in the department would find some excuse to leave early, but as the end of the quarter approached, Arnold would be too busy cross-checking financial reports to skive off. It wasn’t his style. With a frown, he listened to the eclipse related chatter from his colleagues, and tried not to focus on such an inefficient use of work time to discuss something so peripheral.

He’d kept an eye on the weather forecast – it was one of his little indulgences to check the Bureau of Meteorology site between tasks – and was sorry to see the cloud cover disperse. It looked like the sky would indeed be clear, providing optimal conditions for the eclipse. Never mind, Arnold knew that he could watch the highlights on the nightly news bulletin.

From 4 pm onwards, the usual noise in the department depleted as people left early. A few colleagues had paused at Arnold’s desk, and asked if he was heading out to get a good viewing position, but he shook his head and pointed at the intricate spreadsheet on his screen. By 4.30 pm, he’d looked around and smiled smugly. He was the only person left; the only worker who hadn’t abandoned his post. A quick check of the weather confirmed that conditions were still clear. Arnold ducked his head and focused on checking the final details on the report, the draft version neatly stacked on his clean desk. By 4.45 pm, he was satisfied, and he took the document over to the department head’s corner office. Arnold placed it in the tray on his boss’s desk and swivelled on his heel to return to his desk when the world went dark for a heartbeat. Instinctively, Arnold looked out of the nearby window, his chest compressed as through the tinted glass he saw the moon pass between the sun and the earth. It took his breath away.

This piece was written to a prompt on the Writer’s Digest website. Eclipsed: write a story that takes place during a solar eclipse.

Photo: rising moon