The orange sun heaved itself into the sky, making everything glow yellowish. People called it morning, but the sun frowned at this. It wasn’t intelligent, and thought they were associating the beginning of each day with mourning. But it couldn’t complain, for it had a duty to fulfill-to fill the Earth with warmth and light for most of eternity.

A boy popped his eyes open. He was lying on the top of the bunk. The annoyed sun had nearly blinded him in all its fiery rage. The boy leaned over and looked at his sleeping brother on the bottom bunk. “Would you like to kill Mother with me?â€