Sisyphus Never Had it So Good
he stood in snow and stared up at the horrible grey skies. it just wouldn't stop. a shovel lay next to him, unused. for what seemed to be an eternity, the land rolled over white. no trees, no houses, no outward signs of life. just him and his penance.
he clumsily picked up the shovel. could the snow have been deeper now, deeper than it was just a moment ago? forcefully, he shook the snow off the shovel and started to bring it to bear. the snow parted for an instant and then fell back into place. a sudden prickling of his spine, a shock along the nerves and memory came. dull and sharp all at the same time, he saw it all.
they laughed. him and her. just them. snow fell into her hair and he said she looked more like an angel than any he could ever dream of. she whirled and laughed and her hair spun out to catch as much as it could. then pain.
he held his hand to his head and reeled back, an anguished scream had erupted from his throat. he threw the shovel down and fell to his knees, snow packing itself down beneath him. more pain and more screaming and more vague remembrance.
she was crying. holding each sob long enough for his footsteps to echo away. she called out to him. her tear streaked face seeming tortured more.
he was on his back in the snow, shovel at his side. he had been there for a lifetime and would be there forever. he stood. snow caked onto his back falling away clump at a time. he glared at the shovel. a solemn, baleful look. the snow had yet to stop falling, the skies were still grey. whether it was night or day made no difference anymore. he was more set now then when he had started. he began to walk away. slowly but determined, he would find the end. he woud finish what they had started.
the land rolled over white. if you looked close enough you may have been able to tell that someone had plodded their way through the snow, their tracks near invisible. if you could follow them back to where they started, you may have to dig a little but you most certainly would find that shovel.
he clumsily picked up the shovel. could the snow have been deeper now, deeper than it was just a moment ago? forcefully, he shook the snow off the shovel and started to bring it to bear. the snow parted for an instant and then fell back into place. a sudden prickling of his spine, a shock along the nerves and memory came. dull and sharp all at the same time, he saw it all.
they laughed. him and her. just them. snow fell into her hair and he said she looked more like an angel than any he could ever dream of. she whirled and laughed and her hair spun out to catch as much as it could. then pain.
he held his hand to his head and reeled back, an anguished scream had erupted from his throat. he threw the shovel down and fell to his knees, snow packing itself down beneath him. more pain and more screaming and more vague remembrance.
she was crying. holding each sob long enough for his footsteps to echo away. she called out to him. her tear streaked face seeming tortured more.
he was on his back in the snow, shovel at his side. he had been there for a lifetime and would be there forever. he stood. snow caked onto his back falling away clump at a time. he glared at the shovel. a solemn, baleful look. the snow had yet to stop falling, the skies were still grey. whether it was night or day made no difference anymore. he was more set now then when he had started. he began to walk away. slowly but determined, he would find the end. he woud finish what they had started.
the land rolled over white. if you looked close enough you may have been able to tell that someone had plodded their way through the snow, their tracks near invisible. if you could follow them back to where they started, you may have to dig a little but you most certainly would find that shovel.