The Sky is the Limit

Allie Harrison

Allie Harrison

This story was submitted as a contest entry for The Center for Fiction's National Teen Storyteller Contest: Myths Reimagined, 2024.

Who knew forever would last this long? 
 Of course, I knew what forever meant, but even to a Titan, it was difficult to imagine. Especially when the weight of the world rested upon my shoulders. Well, not exactly the weight of the world. Rather, the weight of the sky. 
 The expanse of blue overhead, the vast, interminable ceiling of the Earth all rested on me, and if I caved, so did the world. If I broke, all would end.
 You are Atlas. You have borne the weight of the sky for countless years. You can persist one day more.
 I repeated these words in my mind day after day with the sunrise. They had once invigorated me, but unlike the steady sun, their energy faded with every passing day, along with the strength in my quivering arms.
 A Titan shouldn't falter.
 Still, I never knew if I might slip the next day, the next hour, the next minute. If forever wasn't long enough, the weight of the heavens stretched out the time even farther, like a rubber band right before it snapped.
 Let go.
 But I wouldn't. I could never let go, I couldn't fail again, I could never face the shame of it. Losing the battle against Zeus provided enough shame to last an eternity, no matter how endless that may be. I could never let down the countless mortals on the Earth. My failure would mean their demise.
 Let go.
 If the sky fell, the world would end. All that would remain were the gods, and my shame. Surely I would be exiled, but to where? Would Tartarus be crushed as well?
 Let go.
 Despite my best efforts all of these thousands of years, I could go on no longer. The pressure of the heavens weighing down day and night, year after year, century after century, fled my body as a scream tore through my throat. The weight on my shoulders was too much to bear, even as I looked east and saw all the lands of the world I was holding it for. The mountains, the valleys, the deserts and seas all depended on me. The land of Hesperides, and all the lands beyond. Still, I collapsed.
 The sky did not.
 I blinked, sure I was dreaming, or under a spell, or a victim of some other trick or illusion, but the sky remained in place. The world remained as it was. Only, the sky's weight burdened me no longer. All of these endless years had been wasted with a task now revealed to be in vain. Thankfully, forever was so long, it was difficult to fathom all that lay ahead.
 

This was an entry for a writing contest held in conjunction with Center for Fiction and The Decameron Project
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