Creak, creak, creak…
A distaff had its wheel spinning making a golden and feeble thread from the nothingness.
Sniff, sob, sniff…
The silent cries of a woman who touches those threads and extends them as much as she considers.
Snip, snip, snip…
A pair of golden scissors can be heard cutting those golden and feeble threads.
Ever since they can remember, everyday has been like this. Create, extend and cut. Create, extend and cut again. Sometimes the thread was too fragile, sometimes the thread was stronger, yet all of them were always cut in the end. Everyday, they were accompanied by the sounds of the distaff, the sobbing of their sister and the snipping of the scissors.
“Láquesis, could you please stop crying for a moment, I’m trying to concentrate…”
“I’m sorry, Cloto, I just can’t help it, they are so weak, so many are filled with great dreams and hopes…”
“Yet you are the one who gives them suffering in their lives, so stop crying already, at least for some minutes.”
Everyday was always the same for them. Everyday was the same conversation, Cloto nagging at Láquesis for her continuous crying, meanwhile Átropo stayed silent and continued cutting the threads. Sometimes, out of chance, they had different things to talk about, sometimes some threads caught their curiosity.
“Look, look, Cloto, a man in a blizzard trying to write to his dearest… he is so noble, so… so… sad!” Láquesis would start crying again as her sister would look at her with an annoyed expression.
“Yes, it’s bittersweet, he hopes to see her again but, well, let’s see how this ends…” Cloto would look at Átropo when saying that.
“If he had chosen a different path, perhaps…” Átropo muttered.
And that’s how conversations went.
“Oh my, she looks so beautiful, she is so dreamy, she is so loyal! So sad that her love is not with her! How can she break my heart with such pure thoughts?”
“So sad, indeed. Her loyalty and determination were so strong that she was even willing to sacrifice herself for her love, right, Átropo?”
“Don’t look at me like that, it’s Láquesis the one who chooses how to make them suffer, I at least try to give them some peace…”
“But what is life without some pain? That is how humans learn and gives it a bit of… romanticism to their lives! And surely you wouldn’t like to live a boring life, right?”
“There are some who wish for a boring life if it means having some peace everyday…”
“You party popper… I am doing my job the best I can! You do your boring job, only cutting the lives Cloto had so much trouble to spin!”
“Don’t use my name in this conversation, everyone has a duty to fulfill, whether it's pleasant or not, understood?”
“Fiiiine…”
“...fine…”
Yes, their days were filled with chattering, sobbing, snipping, creaking and bickering, but they were always there, day and night, doing their work the best they could.
Cloto would spin her distaff, her patience was perfect for her work. She would have some blisters in her hands yet she never stopped. Countless threads would be created by her. Her words were always polite and she never wanted to start an argument.
Láquesis had the greatest creativity out of the three sisters, she would extend and measure the threads with her staff and her fingers, choosing how the life of that unfortunate human would go. One of her favorite hobbies was, besides torturing humans, annoying Átropo.
Átropo was the one who would cut the threads. Her vision was impaired by a veil and her scissors were unstoppable. She was the one who would bring an end to those unfortunate souls that her sister would have previously tortured in the name of “romanticism”. She was the most silent out of the three, she knew that, if she started talking, Láquesis would say something just to play and annoy her, that’s why she decided to be quiet.
But that doesn’t mean that she never had some strange thoughts regarding her work. What if I take off my veil? That was the question she would ask herself almost everyday. What if I do it and I watch those threads, be a witness of their lives? Would that hinder my work, would that dull my scissors? Even in the middle of an argument, she would always ask herself those things. Death has a veil on her eyes, to not judge nor differentiate between humans, making everything fair. Poor and rich will always reach the same place in the end.
When cutting those threads, she could hear her sisters talking, but it felt as if she was in a completely different dimension, as her mind could only think about those things. Her sisters looked so carefree for her, they could see, after all. She could only hear what they commented about the lives of those unfortunate souls. When asked for her opinion, was there truly anything for her to say? She could only judge with what she heard, but was it truly fair? She couldn’t see, after all, so was her opinion truly that valuable even if she didn’t have that much information? If only she could take a peek… But no, she couldn’t, even if she had those thoughts, she knew the truth deep inside her. If she were to do that, the consequences would be horrifying.
But she did know one thing after hearing countless stories from her sisters. Humans lived filled with pride. Even if they couldn’t see their loved ones one more time, they still retained that pride. Even if they were starving, they couldn’t get rid of it. They thought about themselves as heroes and more, yet they were still simple humans. They lived with pride but couldn’t achieve much in their short lives. They lived with pride yet some thought others were inferior to them because of it. In the end, Átropo found that most of the problems humanity faced were caused by only one thing: Pride. And once she realized that, she never asked herself again about taking off the veil, because she knew that when she did that, she would lose all hope for a better future for the world. And so, Cloto kept spinning her distaff, creating new stories, Láquesis kept measuring those threads of life and Átropo, silently, kept cutting them until there were no more to cut.