They call her the Unturnable, because she will not change her mind. Once someone has reached the end of their allotted thread, she whisks in to snip it.
They call her the Inevitable One. The Inflexible.
Rarely do they use her name: Atropos.
Most times, the cut is a gentle one, and she catches her charge as their weight is untethered from the cable holding them to life. Sometimes, she misses the catch, and there is a metaphysical thud as though a weary soul has collapsed to a less-than-ethereal floor.
People fear her, but her calling is a necessary one.
Time and technology have changed how she works, over the years, decades, centuries, and epochs. Her sisters have changed their methods as well.
Clotho was so excited to be able to use a 3-D printer to create lives, rather than merely spinning them. And Lachesis was immediately taken with any number of Rube Goldberg-esque measuring devices involving chutes and troughs and scoops and bins and rolling parts that bounce and glide – the middle sister always had been a bit of a tinkerer.
And as for Atropos, herself? Somewhat ironically, the Unturnable had become enamored with the turning hands of clocks. A clock for each of her charges, each of her targets, every living soul, with the correct allotment (as proscribed by Lachesis and created by Clotho) pre-programmed into the perfect number of ticks and tocks or bleeps or blinks (some of the clocks were digital).
They didn’t chime hours, these clocks, but showed how a thread would be snipped. The Shears were merely a symbol now – there were so many other Ways in the world. Look at that one, it’s got lots of time left before the hours wind down to Doesn’t Wake Up, or that one over there, just a few minutes left before it chimes Old Age.
But then there are the more ominous clocks, the ones with darker Ways. Those are the lives that are tortured and broken. Some are sad, some are angry, some have been harmed, some wish to cause harm. Some wish to take other lives with them when they go, some wish only for their own endings.
And Atropos is the Clock Watcher who sees them all.
Tick, tock, it’s half an hour ’til Poison.
Tick, tock, it’s a quarter to Gun.
They call her the Unturnable, but some clocks, she wishes she could turn back.
Excellent merge of the classical with the contemporary. Poignant ending.
Beautifully written. Powerful story line. Tender and violent.
Eerie and encapturing.