A Tragedy: Ode to Melpomene and her sisters the Moirae
I had a problem and took it to the Fates.
Clotho, the spinner, I addressed first. “I wish to change my life,” I said.
Clotho, the youngest, smiled at me and said, "Go to my sister, Lachesis. I weave your life into being, but she picks your lot in life."
I turned to Lachesis, the middle-aged, to request, "I wish to change my lot in life."
"Your lot is now set and entangled with the lives you affect.”
So, I turned to her sister, Atropos, the eldest and asked, "Can you change my life?"
She turned her rheumy eyes toward mine and croaked, "The change I bring will end your life and you are young, yet. Disentangle your life and live it."
I turned to leave them, unhappy. But, Clotho spoke again. "Why do you wish for this?"
I turned and watched her spin. "I suffer."
Lachesis laughed. She plucked up a beautiful string and held it out to me. The colors of the ocean made up the strand, but the weave was broken and entangled with colors that did not match it. "You sought colors that didn't suit yours. It is no wonder."
"I thought you controlled my lot," I said.
"No, the gods decreed your free will," she answered. "I choose how much string you shall have."
I lifted the string to my face and studied its twists and breaks. Suddenly, I saw the design it should have. I saw my own mistakes.
Then a greater design had lain over my sight and it showed me a beautiful tapestry. I saw what I should have done and what I should have been.
"She sees," croaked old Atropos as she readied her sharp shears. Snick went the shears as they sliced through the string.
Down I went, my face stained with tears. The tears flowed into the wrinkles that had marked my face with age. I had waited too long to turn the page.