I wrote this today, spontaneously. If you like it, that's damn cool. If you don't, then too bad, because it's an unedited stream of consciousness, and I'm leaving it that way.

His head beyond sight from the surface, the giant sat, calm and still, far above the only world he knew. Patiently, he watched as the tiny creatures below, oblivious to his existence, went about their ways. He knew them all, and all their stories and their thoughts he knew also, for he had observed them for countless years. Their lives were prosperous, and their children grew strong and begat children of their own. Safe from harm he kept them, as best he could, because he could not stand to see them suffer. With his hand, he sheltered their land from the wind. With his back, he held off the ocean. And all was well for the little people.

Down and down he stared, and he thought of days passed. Once, he had tried to talk to them. Once, ages ago, so far back that he wondered if it had been only a dream. Tired of loneliness, and heartsick, he had craved a friend, and for the first time, opened his mouth to speak to his unwitting children. But too loud was his voice, and too forceful his breath, and the little creatures cowered in fear, and some were killed also. For years afterward, they had told stories of the coming of a terrible storm, and the evil wind that had destroyed their homes and broken their children. He wanted to tell them that he was sorry, but he could not risk to speak again, and he had no other means to communicate. So in silence he had waited for them to notice him.

But it was not to be. Centuries had passed, and now the giant had grown weak. His body was tired from his thankless labour, and his heart was sad. Such a great burden, such knowledge and such hardship, would have been a pleasure to bear, if only he could have shared it with someone - if only someone could have understood. But he was one of a kind. There would be no other for him - no other that could see as he did, or bear for minutes what he had carried for years too long to number.

At last, in one terrible moment, he knew this. And his heart sank, and he was weak with sadness. A single tear, as lonely and frightened as he was, escaped at last from his eye, and rolled slowly down his massive cheek. He felt relief, and he wished for more to come. But even as he did, the huge droplet fell from his chin, and plunged toward the land below. Now, he feared for the lives of his friends. With his last ounce of strength, he lifted his arm, and caught his catharsis in hand. A swell of emotion overcame him then, for he knew at last that he could never have release, even in the loneliest way. The tears were there, ready to flow as they had never done, but he held them off with all his will. The giant was broken. He wished for death, but it would not come of its own accord, and he could not exact it while his friends lay helpless below. So still the giant sat, for the rest of time, his heart destroyed, his mind enswirled in entropy, until the stars burned out, and his own expanding sun consumed him. A life begun and ended.

And no one ever knew.