Earl Hargrove drove the garbage truck at three in the morning because that was when the streets were empty and the silence was almost peaceful.
It was October 2047. The sun had been dimming for two years, maybe three. Nobody kept track. The news talked about it sometimes—solar output down point-zero-three percent, atmospheric temperature dropping, crop yields affected—but the voice on the radio always sounded like he was reading a weather report, like this was about rain or snow or a cold front moving in from the west. Earl didn't read...
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