The Boulder Rolling Uphill

(How is it doing that, anyway?)

Imagine that guy’s chagrin–Sisyphus, yeah, that’s it!–when the boulder just rolls up by itself, like he wandered inside some Mystery Spot. What’s he gonna do then, when his purpose goes rolling away? Does he even have any friends anymore? I imagine they got tired watching him roll that thing up the hill all the time, and then running after it, pell-mell, Jack-and-Jill-style. I mean, it’s tough getting a latte with someone who’s doing that all the time, you know? And would he even have time to drink it if it was to go’d? Imagine Sisyphus’ friend standing there, two cups of coffee in hand, just a little too hot, sipping one of them. And hell, after a while, just drinking the other one too. “See ya later, Sisy,” that friend would say. (Not the best nickname, sure, but what’re you gonna do?)

What I’m wondering, if that boulder just up and rolled up the hill, would Sisyphus run to the top of the hill and try to push it down the hill again? Or would he run off and get himself entangled in some other perpetual task, like emptying a river with a teacup, say, or stopping up the wind. Was it the task itself (i.e., boulder-rolling) or the quality of the task that engrossed him so (i.e., perpetual)?

Maybe he’d go sit and stare at some shadows on a wall or something. Or maybe he’d go try to win arguments on the internet, just saying.

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