by Clodia Metelli

Atlas, they say, bears the world on his shoulders. Wretched Titan, it wearied him: he was petrified and glad of it. He should have been a different god and borne worlds in his head. Dreams have no weight and fall away when the day breaks. A dream-world is the lightest burden an old god can bear. (I dreamed a forest last night. The trunks entwined, the branches spreading. It resolved into an ash tree, I think. Deep in my sleeping thoughts, the roots thrust and tangled, drinking my knowledge into nothingness. Wotan will hang there, one-eyed. I forget how long.)

Back to Archive

Writers Bio

I'm a student of Roman history with a tendency to use my work in my writing and a fondness for the 100-word 'drabble' format.

Inspirational ImageStumped by Abby  Walksby Abby Walks

Pieces Inspired by this Image

'The Sandwich Shrine'
by Aubrey Graze Pareja

by Danica Green

'The Trees Breathe'
by A.J. Huffman

Follow Us

© Copyright 2012 With Painted Words