Saturday, September 30, 2006

ROLLING ROCK: A 100-WORD MYTH

The summit was only fifty yards away. Sisyphus could practically taste it.

Heaving with all his strength, he struggled to keep pouring forward momentum into the massive round boulder. Droplets of sweat pattered in the dust around his feet.

Zeus, he could use a drink. But there would be no drink, no rest for him until he got that fucking boulder all the way to the top.

Ten more yards.

Suddenly, stabbing pain lanced through his left kidney. Gasping, he clutched his side and watched horrorstricken as the boulder rolled to the bottom.

Damn that stone. And damn that stone!

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