He is but a tiny cog in an infinite machine, endlessly turning, grinding through another monotonous day that was the same as yesterday and will be the same as tomorrow.
He wakes up, eats, sleeps, and repeats, getting nowhere fast, his thoughts a monotonous hum, a background noise to the relentless grind.
A daily routine comprised of nothing new, nothing original, just the same old-same old.
He yearns for something more, a spark of individuality, a chance to break free from this machine of sameness.
He occasionally sees a glimpse of possibility where he feels the opportunity may be there to shift the paradigm and exercise some power.
But the gears of the machine keep turning, and he, a tiny cog, is powerless to stop them.
Written for the Sunday Six Sentence Story prompt from Girlie on the Edge, where the prompt word is “machine.”
The Light Up the Lake festival was the highlight of the summer for the townspeople. Nearly everyone in the community would construct a small, handheld, floating craft that held a candle. They’d light the candles and set their crafts on the water and let them float out onto the lake.
Facts, Fictions & Fantasies 