“This is bullshit,” Jake said, holding the plate up so that Ernie the busboy. Ernie was sitting at the far end of the kitchen, his necktie untied, texting something or other to someone or other. Ernie was Jake’s ride home, but he wasn’t about to just jump in and help wash dishes. “I’ve already washed this stupid dish three times tonight. I can tell, because it’s got this chip on the back.”
“Uh-huh,” Ernie nodded.
“It doesn’t end. I’m like that guy with the rock on the hill I read about.”
“Who, Sisyphus?”
“That’s the one. Every night, I come in here and wash the dishes and just an hour later I have to wash them again. It’s like–”
“JACOB COTTER!” a voice bellowed from somewhere below, rattling the pans hanging from the wall. Jake gripped the edge of the sink to steady himself. He looked over at Ernie, who indicated the drain in the center of the floor. “I, SISYPHUS, DO NOT GET PAID SIX DOLLARS AND FIFTY CENTS AN HOUR TO ROLL THIS BOULDER UP THIS STUPID HILL.” And then there was silence.
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This post is an installment in a continuing series of content coordinated by theme or motif with posts from Enoch Allred of Chiltingham, John Allred of clol Town, Jon Fairbanks of Funkadelic Freestylings of Another Sort, Eli Z. McCormick and Miriam Allred of Modern Revelation!, John D. Moore of Whatnot Studios, Davey Morrison, and Joseph Schlegel of Sour Mayonnaise. This week’s theme: ‘Sisyphean’.
