It's Still Life

Carrying the Weight

The old man carried the village’s silence up the mountain each morning. Not in a sack, but in the hollow humming of his throat.

It was the weight of unmade decisions, and need left unsaid.

At the summit, he’d open his mouth, and let the wind take it all. The valley below felt lighter— and so did he.

But he’d gather it all up again the next night — because some weights aren’t meant to be put down, only shared with the sky.

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Written for Microdosing Fiction: 80 words on “Carrying the Weight, and Denise’s Six Sentence Story including the word “need”. So this is 80-words in 6-sentences. Poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.