The Obelisk

The obelisk stood alone. It didn’t know a time when it didn’t. Stand alone, that is. It felt lonely and unfulfilled. What’s the meaning of its existence if it’s sharpness was for nought? It yearned to pierce anything, but mostly the sun. The spherical demon that pounded down day after day, its rays penetrating even the darkest parts of the obelisk’s black marble. Sometimes, the obelisk tried to see the sun as a positive force. A strengthening mentor of sorts. No. It couldn’t be. The obelisk stood alone. It didn’t know a time when it didn’t. And it never would.