The Well

Seen from below, a blazing orange and blue cog floats inside a golden hexagon-tiled tunnel as small figures look up.

You see the hand. Good. Most people at the bottom of this shaft don’t. They look at me, because I’m the bright thing, and the bright thing is always the distraction.

That hand comes down the well once a generation. It doesn’t hurry. It doesn’t have to. It takes what’s ripe and leaves the rest to grow back, and the people down here call that the harvest festival and bake little bread cogs for it.

Look up past me. Count the fingers. Now tell me whose festival it is.

— the Furious One, from inside the cog

From the Cogverse series · Made with AI image tools · How it's made