The moon had traveled across the dark canvas of the sky,

Bursting plump and round as a pale white peach,

Pitted and waning to a sodden, softening half,

Slumping to a circlet that slouched on its backside,

Shrinking further still to the tiniest, driest sliver,

Until it finally

Winked out into nothing at all.

If the Mages were correct, the sun would not be rising on this day, unless she did her duty.

She sighed, weary of the repetition,

Thoroughly burned out by the lack of respite,

Disgusted by the fact that she never got credit for preparing

The twin chariots of Moon and Sun,

Day after day, month after month, year after year,

Ad nauseam.

And really, what did the Mages know,

With their imprecise measurements and models, their predictive analytics?

Had they ever tested their theories, ever had another share the crushing responsibility

Of making sure the world continued to turn on its axis?

Convinced by them that she couldn’t risk their being wrong,

She pulled out the golden key on the silver chain that hung beneath her tunic,

Inserted it into the winding arbor to her heart, and

Slowly began to rotate it and tighten the gear

For another round.

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2021)

The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “GEAR”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories

Rules of the hop:

Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less.

Use the current week’s prompt word.

Link your post Wednesday night through Saturday late…

Spread the word and put in a good one to your fellow writers!