A Bedtime Story
by Mark Alan Bondurant
"'And they rode away into the sunset...'"
"What's a sunset?"
"Well, I don't know, but my granddad saw one once."
"Then what is it?"
"It's when the sun goes behind a planet."
"Dad, that's an eclipse."
"You have to be on the planet's surface."
The child rolled his eyes. "The gravity would crush you."
"Well," the father paused. "That's true." Then he suggested, "Perhaps it was a very small planet."
"Like an asteroid?"
"Perhaps."
The child frowned. "It's just shadows? And it still doesn't explain riding."
"You heard. They clung to animals."
"It would unbalance it," the child said. "They would go into a spin."
The father frowned. "Maybe they were special animals?"
"Like a big bird maybe?" the child said, brightening. "In an open space, or low orbit around a gas giant? That would be fun."
The father smiled. "Yes it would, but it said these had legs."
"Legs?"
"They say our lower arms used to do that, that we had them. They were different."
"Oh," the child said, ready to give up.
"Really."
"If it says," the child replied, unconvinced.
They floated in silence for a bit, until the child frowned.
"And why did they walk, clinging to the back of these animals facing the sun?"
