Helios sucks balls.

Have you ever thought that the setting Sun was chasing you?

It'd be a pretty scary thing, if you thought that it was actually happening to you, wouldn't it?

E and I saw a lady this evening on Queen West who was trapped in just such a pursuit. . . and she didn't take it lying down.
She hurled about as much abuse at the Sun as I'm sure it has ever received at the hands of one person. I realise the Sun is used to criticism; I mean, the Cancer Society has made it out to be this big Boogeyman over skin cancer, so the Sun is used to taking its licks--but this lady was being a total bitch!

F-this! And F-ing that! She was up one side of the Sun, and down the other. Dirty rotten piece of. . . she just wouldn't let it go. But the Sun kept coming.

Meanwhile, folks trying to make the left on to Queen from Portland were having trouble seeing around her: her invisible soap box--her final stand--was taking place directly in the middle of Portland.

She finally decided that gesturing with only one hand didn't seem to be getting her threaten messages across, so she set down her coffee. . . in the middle of Portland.

A car promptly ran over her coffee.

This did not improve the situation.

A lady in a red Mazda tried to talk some sense into her.

This did not improve the situation.

Secretly, E and I did not want the situation improved.
We were glad the coffee was flattened. We cheered when the red Mazda offered colloquial support.
But then dinner came--we looked away for only a second--and the crazy lady was gone!
Had the Sun scorched her to death?
There were no ashes.

I appeared the Sun had totally wussed-out and set without incident.
The Sun, as our Crazy Lady rightfully said, is a fucking pussy.

If I were the Sun, things would have gone down much differently.