Atlas

His silhouette obscures part of the sky and his shoulders scramble the clouds as he stretches out above the valley. Perched atop the cliff, I see one of his hands emerge from the mist, rumbling past me at close range—a hand that could seize the Colosseum, or perhaps even pick up the Asterion. He's a colossus, a titan, a gargantuan being to whom we are mere ants. But that's precisely what I'm aiming for. His hand suddenly drops down and plunges into the side of the plateau. I hang on tight to avoid falling as violent tremors jolt the countryside. Like a quarryman taking a stone, he tears off the rocky outcrop I'm standing on. Like a gardener uprooting a clump of earth, he lightly swings the small island he's just detached from the ground.

The trees around me are shaken as if by a hurricane. The moor is blasted by a biting wind as he carries it under his arm like a bulky package. With each of his steps, it feels like the world is quaking. I grab onto a stump to keep from getting blown away, and I can't help but laugh, half-nervously and half-madly. To him, I'm nothing but a tick on a buffalo, an insignificant gnat. Suddenly, I feel the entire atoll I'm standing on fall to the earth. No doubt he intends it as a delicate gesture. But to me, it's as though a terrible earthquake were shattering the world. Trees fall at the impact. Rocks spring up from the ground, which breaks apart and starts moving like the sea. And as a thick dust rolls in around me, calm is restored. In just a few steps, he's transported me leagues…