Winter

My days are cold and dark without the warm touch of the sun... My body is numb from all but the sun's warming rays, the kiss of their warmth on my skin... The world is colorless, all that was once sweet is now bitter. Without the sun, it is as though the world was never to be born at all. An anomaly of nature, the world is... The plants die, the trees leaves whither, the animals become frail and weak... A barren landscape is all that is left without the sun. And that's how it is, and will be... I hope at some point the sun will return to the world to assist in it's healing, and the growth of new and better things.

Maybe it's to be a barren landscape forever. Because, you see, the sun doesn't like when the earth's creatures start to adapt to their chilly, barren habitats. When they learn to deal without the sun, and though they miss it and love it deeply, they must cope with it's loss and carry on without. The sun becomes vengeful and hateful that the creatures would possibly be able to move on, or at least adapt to the new and harsh environment, so it moves farther and farther away from the earth... Trying to kill every last ounce of hope and happiness that there could have been in the world, the sun shuns it, hoping that the animals and plants will rue the day that they attempted to live without it.

But it doesn't work that way...