When the Possum Met the Sun

When the possum met the sun, he was deep in his burrow. He was alone, safe from predators, with no need to forage. He heard the humming of the grass above him, and felt the truth in the dirt. The sun entered welcome and unexpected, connecting with the possum at his chest. He wasn't burnt, he was connected, and for a moment, he felt no need at all to burn anything. Not his food or his anger. He had a new fire, more complete and wiser than the harsh wisps and licks he was used to. There was no telling how that light would look out in the open, but deep in his burrow, the possum was wonderful and content.

The return was difficult. He got a sort of traveling sickness on the way back, though he'd only gone somewhere by connecting to the huge sphere, impossibly huge, inexplicably equal to the moon from our point of view. He needed all of the next day to feel normal again. Now it's back to foraging, burrow maintenance and the like, but the possum knows he has a new friend, and he'd like to visit again sometime.