Dear Reader,

What if the hero failed to save the day? What if that dramatic split-second decision preventing disaster never came to pass and the good side lost?

That was the inspiration for this nearly 2 years ago. With so much to unpack, I’d love to write a longer piece for this. Alas, it’s been relegated to the back of an ever-extending line of projects that I’ll get to “someday.”

Instead, I’ve distilled the heart of the story down into these 22 lines. I hope you find something meaningful within “The Weight of the World”. Let me know what you think in the comments.

I wander empty streets of a doomed era,

No escape from falling skies.

Scavengers of every variety,

Scamper away as I pass, seeing me for what I am.

Hollow vehicles form unending lines waiting to go nowhere,

Reflections barely perceivable within shattered storefront windows.

A woman cradles a noiseless bundle on a forsaken street corner,

dry riverbeds scarring her cheeks.

Deeper in the city a building crumbles to join civilization.

The dead pan stare she gives me is like a spotlight,

I shudder at the oppressive force, freezing center stage.

I study a crack in the cement as if it’s a gorge separating us.

Her sweet voice is sandpaper to my soul as she asks,

“Who are you?”

Any name I tell her would be a lie;

I am not the man I thought I was.

“I am sorry,” I say.

Tiny flecks of ash tumble down upon my shoulders,

Their final resting place among all the others.

“Don’t be,” she says. “The world did this to us.”

I no longer have the strength to refute her claim.

Deep down I know that no excuse will ever be enough.

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The Weight of the World is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

2022 Storyletter LLC Digital Substack Edition.

All rights reserved.

Cover design by Winston Malone courtesy of Midjourney and Canva Pro.

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