Skating Under A Sunless Sunset

Title (Dublin Core)

Skating Under A Sunless Sunset

Disclaimer (Dublin Core)

DISCLAIMER: This item may have been submitted in response to a school assignment. See Linked Data.

Description (Dublin Core)

September 9th, 2020. The first day in years where I wake up and I am terrified by what I see: the world outside my window is drenched in orange light. I blink multiple times and bolt up, making sure I am not dreaming and that I am in complete control of my faculties. I sit in my room, stunned, for a few moments, then go about my day as usual. I peek my head outside for a moment, and smell nothing in the air. None of the smoke that had been plaguing our noses for the past few days was permitted among the copper splendor. My whole morning, I am terrified of what this could potentially mean: that the fire was close. That we could be in danger. This leaves a bad taste in my mouth for the morning.

After class, I go about my normal after-school activities, gaming on my computer and playing on the guitar. At about 6 in the evening, I decide to myself “screw it.” I pick up my board, put my earbuds in, and get out of the house. The orange is dimmer, but still terrifyingly beautiful to look at. I skate around, listening to my favorite music as I observe the neighborhood around me, the same shapes with different meanings now. I dare not to pull out my phone to ruin this moment, knowing a photograph or video from it will ruin the moment for me. I stop along Mangos Drive and just sit on the curb, board behind my feet, and I stare up, hearing only my music and the occasional car passing by. A true calm, I was in, one I hadn’t been in in a long time.

And so I sat there, knowing where the sun sets, but seeing no sun. I knew when it did set, but not through sight. Through feeling. The lukewarm day turned colder, the orange dimmed to a vibrant brown, and I felt phenomenal. I skated back home, not caring to check how long I’d been gone, knowing it was well worth it however much time I spent out there. I snapped out of it, and continued with the things I had been doing before, playing games and the guitar. Not once, that whole day, did I smell or taste smoke. And I am grateful for it.

Date (Dublin Core)

Creator (Dublin Core)

Event Identifier (Dublin Core)

Partner (Dublin Core)

Type (Dublin Core)

Sensory memory; it is my own memory.

Link (Bibliographic Ontology)

Controlled Vocabulary (Dublin Core)


Curator's Tags (Omeka Classic)

Contributor's Tags (a true folksonomy) (Friend of a Friend)

Collection (Dublin Core)

Linked Data (Dublin Core)

Date Submitted (Dublin Core)


Date Modified (Dublin Core)


Date Created (Dublin Core)


Item sets

This item was submitted on October 27, 2020 by Tony Yantikov using the form “Share Your Story” on the site “A Journal of the Plague Year”:

Click here to view the collected data.

New Tags

I recognize that my tagging suggestions may be rejected by site curators. I agree with terms of use and I accept to free my contribution under the licence CC BY-SA