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A Tentatively Apocalyptic Morning

A wedge of sandy orange light pried my eyes open, not so much as apologizing for the unsavory experience before it pointed out that the celestial bodies were generally in an apocalyptic sort of mood at the moment. They'd apparently had enough of the little blue git, infested with all manner of parasites that they'd told him time and time again to get rid of. He'd apparently grown attached to the swarming abominations and disturbingly enough, didn't seem to mind it when they called him "Mother Earth". This had greatly upset Mars and Venus who were generally very adamant about the clear definition of genders, not that that had anything to do with them since they were planets, but minor details like those certainly weren't going to stop them being filled with righteous fury.

I had discovered this intragalatic dispute when I stepped out of my hostel room and took a quick glance at the sky. The sky was a bright orange, and in between the sun and us was a thick veil of dust that might have suggested that it was probably time for humanity to start going back to their nomadic roots and start living in giant sandcrawlers while scavenging off the ruins of prior civilization for a living. The sky was now an expansive desert of nothingness, the dust in the air passing off for sand and making the sun seem a lot more sweltering than it would have alone.

The desert was complete with bedrock, bedrock that tended to grumble a lot and spit lightning into its giant planet of a spitoon and wasn't quite content with being where it currently was. It spread, its blackness slowly contaminating the nearby orangeness and very soon, you had to look for the orange in the sky before you saw it, which meant that if you unaware of the orangeness to begin with then you would proably lost out on a lot of it.

But it had made a crucial publicity error. It spread so much, became so prevalent that it no longer drew any attention. It became the backdrop for a sky that was filled with nothing but itself, and everyone eventually ignored it. It didn't take this too well. It left, taking the furnace-like shades of orange and the fog of dust with it, leaving behind a vibrantly blue and slightly confused sky by three o'clock in the afternoon.

The weather, if anything, is erratically bipolar.