Hidden Away

Rain fell from the dark clouds above as he dug into the wet, muddy ground with his shovel.

The rhythmic patter of the drops upon the green tree leaves masked all other sounds, save for the steady sound of his shovel piercing the earth as he laboured to uncover that which he had buried.

Down deep in the ground, beneath an old oak he digs and piles the loose muck in a mound beside the ever growing hole.

He works his way down until he stands waist deep in his freshly dug hole; until his shovel hits against something with a metal clang.

Excitedly, he tosses the shovel aside and scrambles down to uncover the rest of the black soil with his bare hands.

Worming his fingers beneath the sides of the rectangle object, he pulls it strenuously free from its resting place with a sucking pop.

Falling backwards off balance, he leans against the wall of the hole as he cradles the metal box in his arms preciously; scanning all around for any one that might be out in the rain looking on.

Satisfied he is alone, he wipes the mud from the box and runs his hands along its surface; the falling rain cleaning the last of the dirt both from his hands and the box's lid.

Unlatching the lock on the front of the grey box, he hesitates for a moment before gingerly lifting the lid open slightly.

A brilliant light seeps out of the sliver that he cracks open; brilliant and gold, it radiates as he opens the lid wider.

Upon his face, the golden illumination reflects in the dark grey light of the perpetually rainy day. And while he looks down at the contents of the box, a greedy grin slides across his rain-soaked face.

The light grows brighter still as he opens the box fully and gazes upon the Sun, which he has stolen and hidden away in the plain, metal container.

Stolen from the sky, it is the absence of the Sun that has thrown the world into this eternal bleakness.

Tears begin to well in his hazel eyes at the beauty he holds in his hands, the glowing orb pulsating with brightness and warmth; but before the tiny Sun can begin to grow any further in its tiny prison, he clamps the lid down tightly once more.

Again he looks around fervently for any witnesses to his crime and then carefully places the box back down at the bottom of the hole and proceeds to cover it back up with the black, soggy earth.

Smoothing over the surface of the freshly filled in hole, he kneels down to put his hands upon the ground and feels the warmth still radiating up from the box under all that dirt.

He smiles once more to himself with the thought that his treasure will remain, buried and hidden until the next time he comes to glimpse at its magnificence; his own, and no one else's'.

The thought makes him look at the empty sky above and laugh to himself in the cold, never-ending rain.