Minute Minuet

/ Liz H-H
Steampunk woman's face

His hand trembled, a bead of sweat
Rolled down his temple
Traced his jaw line
And yet
He had to try.

Lifting his head, he catches the scent
Of bergamot tea
Oranges, sun
Locked in
He cannot run.

Smile like sphinx, she’s got him now
His odor of ordure
A sign of sure stress
Yet this one need
He will address.

The panel is tiny, its gears like pins
The tool he invented
An untested win
Last chance
He bends to begin.

A minute adjustment, too much and it blows
A world decimated
Or reset to go
Evil queen
Narrows her eyes.

He stills his tremble, quiets his mind
Doubting irrelevant
Must needs take the time
Inventor invited
No choice but to dance.

© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2025)

The challenge? Write a story in exactly 6 sentences based on Denise’s one word prompt: MINUTE. Visit, comment, and write & post your own on SIX SENTENCE STORIES.  The Café is open. Come as you are!

23 thoughts on “Minute Minuet”

  5. damn*!
    loves them Sixes (even the pomes) that read like those magazine/pencil mazes (way back in the day)… nothing as simple as ‘you’re getting warmer…no wait cold’
    much more effective is your: ‘this is waiting… no, lets switch, you like this better? take the following turns’

    * a compliment

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