A short story in 200 words*

I’m at ground zero warming up before I roll the rock up the hill yet again. Many of you have heard of my curse, facing an eternity of hopeless labor. The Gods may have been mistaken, it turns out, in meting out this particular punishment. Far from being pointless, my perpetual chore keeps me focused on the moment, the breath. My daily burden, if you want to call it that, allows me to eavesdrop on the tourists, something else the Gods didn’t plan for.

Maybe the Gods couldn’t have predicted the vastness of reproducing humans, but people of all sizes are littered about, the hum of their prattle a gentle cadence while I toil. They’ve built a gift shop and hotel nearby; the Sisyphus Springs they call it. As they watch me, I watch them. I heave the boulder yet again as I begin to wonder what the Gods were thinking. The tourists take their selfies to prove they were here. Some even thank me before leaving. I am as immutable as stone, but my heart still beats and I still remember. If they wanted to punish me, they should have taken that.


*I got this idea from a coffee cup at a fast food chain. I thought it sounded like fun



1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Jason M. Spurlock
    Feb 28, 2016 @ 03:02:21

    Nice take on sysyphus



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