Citizens of Bunker, as I'm sure many of you know, ours is a peaceful subterranean settlement. Much more peaceful than other settlements, we assume, although we will never know, because we have never verified that any others still exist.
This peac(more)e we experience was created through necessity, American values, and the culling of rebellious individuals from our fragile gene pool. This peace is maintained through our strong senses of community, tradition, and complete isolation, societal pillars which have been recently weakened by the opening of that hole that leads to Outside Bunker.
As you know, we have tried limiting exposure to Outside Bunker, and rightfully so. Many of those who return do so as addicts to a new and frightening drug they call sunshine. It saturates the Outside Bunker atmosphere. Addicts can be identified by sunshine's side effects, which include darkened or reddened skin, peeling of the skin, straight and sturdy bones, and in extreme cases a new disease Scientist has dubbed "skin cancer." He warns that many addicts even lose the ability to see in the dark.
We have never known why our ancestors immigrated to Bunker eons ago, but we know that they did so for a reason. This is a place of safety. In light of this new information about sunshine, Historian has published a new paper claiming that our ancestors may have fled Outside Bunker after the drug became omnipresent in the atmosphere. Knowing its harmful effects, they came here to live free, virtuous lives. All those who stayed on the surface must have perished as their addictions grew greater and greater.
We must learn from their mistakes. We must stay within Bunker. Report any sunshine addicts to the Department of Culling.
Walking out on a cold winter morning,
Thinking of my summer - wishing
times would change for better
summer would return sooner
Shivering in the bitter winds, scowling
Then hits me the Oh Wonderful Sunshine
(more) Vanishing all my trivial bewailing
Showing simply what seemed Byzantine
"Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, it’s only darkness everyday. Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, she’s always gone too long, anytime she goes away."
Bill Withers obviously was thinking about a woman when he sang this song; these lyrics are what I think about as I hear(more) my furnace kick in and as I look out the window and decide “better grab a jacket,” before stepping outside on this cool, “unsunny” mid-May morning.
So far, in my southeastern Wisconsin city, Mr. Sunshine has not clicked open the email which states that it is time to turn winter’s frown upside down. Consequently, the sun has been a rare sighting. Warmer weather? Ha! Mr. Sunshine is, in fact, acting like a grumpy old man with these less than “spring like” temperatures he’s been springing on us.
I, a child of the sun, for one, do not appreciate it. I want to feel like I felt yesterday. A mere 80 miles south, I was in the midst of a perfect summer day—sunny, 75 degrees, a very light wind. I simultaneously enjoyed being draped in the tranquility of all that is a warm summer morning while dreading the train ride that would ultimately deliver me to the land of dreary, aka, home.
Mr. Sunshine, I’m going to need you to listen up. Give us a break, damnit! It’s mid-May; the furnace should not be on. Please, Mr. Sunshine.