the boy and Sisyphus

The boy walked across the open plain, dust trailing, and came upon a mesa. As he rested in the shade of a nearby boulder he observed a man pushing a large rock up a dry wash that led up the mount. The man was obviously struggling, and it seemed that...

...Yes, he lost the rock, and it came back down the slope, the man following behind, tumbling end over end, having lost his balance at the same time he lost his grip. With a shudder the rock came to a rest against the boulder the boy was resting under, enraptured by the tableau of man against gravity. The man gave a rather audible sigh, and brushing his knees off, sauntered over to the rock. He gave a nod to the boy.

"What are you doing?" the boy asked.

"Why I'm trying to roll this boulder to the top of this mountain," the man replied, giving the boy a look as if this was strangest thing anyone had ever asked of him.

"Why?'

"Because I... you know, I'm not quite sure why. Do you know?" The boy, having just arrived in the vicinity, shook his head. "Well, that's odd, I can't imagine why I'd want to keep doing this." He sat down next to the boy, who proffered his canteen. The man took it and drank long, with ferocity. Water trailed down his neck as he suddenly remembered that he needed it, and he gripped the canteen tightly as he chugged as if it would be the first in and the last for a long time.