Reading Time: 1 minute

The wheel stood since the beginning. Dense, epic, and ancient before time, the world grew up around it. The center of everything, really: the halo of clear white sky, the arc of history, cultivation, and community. The entire enterprise.

Over time, we disremembered. It’s centrality lost and it’s soul objectified, our revere faded first to respect, then acceptance, then finally disregard. It became a relic, then a monument, a sculpture, then a toy. A plaything for children.

Until the day it turned.

Then everything we’d forgotten came crashing back.

Written for Friday Fictioneers  organized by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. 100 words. Photo prompt.To see other’s responses to the prompt go here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast


26 thoughts on “Tock

  1. Great title. I like how you set up the tension; I could tell that the people would pay a price for forgetting, and that last line really drives it home. Nice take on the prompt, too; I have no idea what that object is, so it makes perfect sense that its meaning has been lost to time.

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