Syzigial by Brontë Goodspeed-Gross
It is a merciless day . The sun is pummeling the earth with an unrelenting blast of heat . Today , it is so hot that even the mirages have evaporated , leaving nothing but the sullen and burning asphalt . This is the kind of day that I live for . From my position on my white plastic armchair , I can watch the beautiful and burning ball of fire riding its thermals across the sky . The chair is backed right up to the west side of my cracked and peeling house . The white , flaking paint has long ago given up any pretense of covering the siding boards and now merely accentuates their nakedness .
I do this every day , watching the sun wind its way across the sky . It ’ s my job , in a way . The days like these are the ones that make it worth it , when the air is scalding and each breath you exhale is like spitting fire . Maybe this is what it feels like to be a dragon , I thought , admiring the deep tan on my skin . Sitting out here with my shirt off all day has left my skin dry and leathery , but I got used to that a long time ago . I have been living in this place long enough to watch the town grow up around me . Fields become parking lots , trees turn to lampposts . The buildings have been growing taller , but none of them have encroached on my view of the sky yet . Looks like that might be changing soon . They ’ re digging up the parking lot across the street from me , and from the amount of equipment they ’ re bringing in , it looks like this one is gonna be big . Maybe I ’ ll have a word with the developer tomorrow .
The next day , I drag my chair to a spot where I can keep an eye on both the sunrise and the parking lot . I am waiting for the proprietor to show up , to begin skulking around his new project . A shiny car pulls up to the dusty lot , and I wait for the driver to get out and begin his habitual walk around the property . I begin walking over , and he looks up at me and gapes . Yeah , a seven foot tall man with burning golden pupils will do that to people . I take a step over the chain with the DO NOT TRESPASS sign and stride up to him . As soon as I cross the barrier , his attitude changes . I can see in his eyes that he thinks he knows how to deal with this .
“ Who the fuck are you ?” he asks while he whips out his phone and prepares to dial someone . I cover the remaining distance in one easy lope , and then I grab his hand and squeeze . The phone shatters in his hand as his bones grind together , shards of cracked screen embedding themselves in his skin . He almost manages to choke out a scream , but I seize his throat and lift him off of his feet . Blood drips from his crippled hand as his legs sway , searching for contacting with the ground .
“ They used to call me Apollo ,” I say . “ But now I have a question for you . Do you know what a syzygial is ?” He shakes his head – or at least he tries to – and I keeping talking . “ It ’ s an alignment of the sun , the moon , and the earth . There ’ s three options to choose from – a solar eclipse , where the moon orbits in between the sun and the earth . This one has driven civilizations into terror for millennia . Then there ’ s the lunar eclipse , where the earth slides in between the sun and the moon . Personally , that ’ s my favorite . It ’ s a pretty one . But do you wanna know what they call the last option ? Where the sun gets in between the moon and the earth ?” The proprietor looks into my eyes , and his own roll up into his head in terror . I speak with the finality that they only give to gods . “ They call it a fucking apocalypse . Now take all this shit and go .”
He writhes in my grip , and I drop him on to the dusty ground . Overhead , the sun blazes . It is going to be another hot day .
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