The moon and the Pleiades go down - By Marie-Antoinette Eisenzimmer

Written By: Marie-Antoinette Eisenzimmer

Category: Short Story

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

Marie-Antoinette Eisenzimmer presents a contemplative short story titled "The moon and the Pleiades go down," featured in the Short Story category of the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. This narrative takes the reader on an evocative journey through the inner landscapes of the protagonist, Atlas. It is a beautifully crafted exploration of solitude and introspection, portraying the challenges of modern life with a poetic sensibility.

About the Work

Eisenzimmer's story gracefully weaves vivid imagery and a reflective mood, encapsulating a sense of longing and existential contemplation. The narrative is rich with symbolism, as Atlas roams the cityscape, searching for connection and meaning. The piece masterfully captures the tension between the external world and internal experience, inviting readers to ponder the complexities of human emotion and identity.

The moon and the Pleiades go down

Original Submission by Marie-Antoinette Eisenzimmer

The moon and the Pleiades go down

By Marie-Antoinette Eisenzimmer

Atlas rode his bicycle over a tarred pathway, roaming towards the ever-burning fire of the factory on the horizon, glowing like the eternal flame of the Olymp.

He didn’t need a map to find his way back to the city. Feeling like a seafarer, navigating his way over the dark sea, led by the light of the polar star, he blindly followed the path towards the eternal factory flame.

The fair wind pushed his back, and he barely had to move his legs to pick up speed, reminding him of simpler times, when his father taught him how to ride a bike.

There, on the outskirts of the city, he could finally look at the sky and breathe. The feeling of suffocation, as if the celestial sphere was crushing on his shoulders, seemed to dissipate. There, the sky was more distant and vast. Distant enough, to simply be a comforting veil of celeste instead of oppressing cyan.

Atlas reached the bridge to cross the river, pedaling past the city sign, through corn fields and quiet neighborhoods. Standing in front of his apartment complex towering over him, the roof growing closer to the sky the closer he came, his footsteps slowly reclined.

The stairs seemed impossible to summit, the smell of the old stairwell unbearable, the air of his attic apartment unbreathable.

He wandered through the streets, turning left, turning right, crossing streetlights and small parks, only following the trail of his feet.

Atlas found himself standing in front of a narrow staircase between two buildings. There was a faint smell of cigarettes. The air was yet again unbreathable, and the stairs seemed too high for him to be able to climb up. Though his feet thought otherwise, carrying him all the way up to the first floor, where he found the cramped and dusty entrance of a Billiard Café.

Before he could sort out his thoughts, he was already sitting on a bar stool.

“What d’you want, boy, a beer?”, a woman behind the counter, with a swollen face and a thick accent asked, as she looked up from her phone. She had to speak over the loud radio show and the voice of a woman coming from her phone’s speakers, that blared through the otherwise quiet café.

His head slowly nodded, caught off guard by the intense stare through purple rectangular glasses that seemed way too small for her face, sitting on the bridge of her narrow, pointed nose.

A low chuckle left her lips, when she reached for a bottle of local beer.

“You’re old enough to drink, right boy?”, the woman asked as she popped open the bottle.

Atlas didn’t trust his voice and once again he simply nodded, while he reached for his wallet.

Another laugh left her thick throat, when she saw the card in his hand.

“Only cash here, boy.”

He opened the pocket with coins in his wallet, his fingers shaking as he tried to scrape enough coins together, the two-Euro-coin repeatedly falling back into the sea of bronze one- and two-Cents-pieces, until he finally managed to get the money over the counter.

The woman pushed the bottle over the counter with an amused smirk on her lips, before returning to her phone call.

Atlas stared at the dark bottle in his hands. The label was wet and his thumbs had started to scratch of the already loosened sticker. He looked around and when he deemed everyone else busy he reluctantly lowered his nose to the brim of the bottle. A malty, almost sour smell penetrated his nose. He turned his head, scrunching his nose, searching for the faint scent of smoke and the sweet perfume of the bar woman to mend the violation in his nose.

How did people enjoy beer? How did it become a habit to have a beer after work as a reward? Why would anyone pay money to drink pint after pint on a Friday night?

Atlas thought of all the people he had seen drinking beer and realized, he had never seen anyone smell the beer before drinking it. Maybe that was the trick? Maybe the smell was just misleading and it actually tasted great?

Before he could change his mind, his hands put the bottle to his lips, his head thrown back as he tilted the beer upwards and took a big gulp.

The salty, tart taste made his eyes water and his first instinct was to spit all of it on the floor. Yet he swallowed all of it, tensing up every muscle in his body in an attempt to hide the disgust in his face.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it”, a raspy voice, strained by thousands of cigarettes over the course of years shouted.

Atlas snapped his head to his right and was met with an old man, dressed in a football jersey and a cap. The wide smile on his face was hugged by sun-kissed, leathery wrinkles.

He didn’t know how to reply, so the corners of his lips turned slightly upwards, before he forced his focus back on the beer in front of him. The boy took another sip, the foam kissing his upper lip as the golden liquid made its way down his throat. The taste was still awful.

Sounds of laughter made him turn around in his chair.

There was a group of four girls standing around a billiard table in the right corner. Two of them seemed to be more on the quiet side, the third had a sly grin on her face and the fourth appeared to be the center of attention. A bright smile was painted on her lips, not like the sun though, more like neon lights. It was cold, distant, maybe even lonely?

Did her body act on its own like his did? A smile, when all she wanted to do was cry? Kind words, when she wanted to scream slurs? Gentle touches, in places she wanted to inflict gashes?

Atlas ached to know the truth behind the lying smile. Still, his legs remained rigid.

At a billiard table tucked away in the left corner, there were a boy and a girl. By the way the girl pushed her hair behind her ear, as she talked to the boy and the soft placement of his hand on her hip, when he passed her as he walked around the table to get a better angle on his color, it was a date. They were both quite attractive. The way they talked to each other, spoke with each other and laughed together, it all seemed so simple. Nothing was out of place. Every word, every touch was intentional. No sign of heteronomy. Not a step, not even a letter externally determined by their body.

Atlas pined for a movement of his foot or even the nod of his head that was just his own. An autonomous decision. Just once.

He imagined talking to the boy, asking him how he decided on wearing that specific hairstyle, how he chose this exact bar or that certain company, how he smiled so freely and how he moved his hands so consciously. Not a single muscle in his body moved.

Atlas wanted to laugh without thinking. Take a leap of faith. Follow his passions, his instincts, his desires.

He remained still. It was as if he had already met his fate of being turned into stone by Perseus.

His eyes continued to watch the couple on their date. The boy leaned over the table, adjusting the angle of the cue, aiming at the blue billiard ball, looking almost like a professional, while doing so. The set-up was perfect, Atlas thought. The ball would definitely find its way into the pocket.

Then, finally, the moment when the cue hit the ball.

Only that it didn’t go into the pocket, it wasn’t even near it. He must’ve hit the white ball at the wrong angle and it had barely moved.

The bartender, who must’ve observed the scene as well, burst out into a roaring laughter, a slurred “sorry” between fits of guffaws.

Atlas’ own lips remained silent. He wanted to burst out laughing. His mouth had a different idea.

He kept watching the boy and the girl enjoying their date and every time, one of them let their gazes travel towards the bar or one of the came closer to order a drink, he hoped that they would address him, strike up a conversation, smile at him.

None of that happened.

Neither did he leave his chair, nor did a word leave his lips.

Destined to carry the burden of the sky’s weight on his shoulders all by himself, he stayed alone on that unsteady bar stool. The couple was long gone, the group of girls and the old man at the bar had left hours before, the beer in his glass was warm and the carbonation had escaped an eternity ago.

The lights went out, the bartender told him to leave, but his feet stayed still.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar is a prestigious platform celebrating literary talent from around the world. It offers writers an opportunity to showcase their work and engage with a global audience. The competition is dedicated to fostering creativity and innovation in poetry and storytelling, drawing diverse voices and perspectives.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Marie-Antoinette Eisenzimmer for her poignant short story, "The moon and the Pleiades go down." Her participation in the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 is greatly appreciated, and we are honored to feature her work on our platform.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.