short fiction · 2026-10-06

The Whispering Breeze

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

Night settled over the old oak, its leaves trembling as if sharing a secret with the sky. A soft gust slipped through the branches, carrying whispers of distant streets and forgotten promises. Each syllable curled around the night air, weaving through the bark and into the listener’s mind like a thread pulled from an unseen loom. The wind seemed to speak of stories untold, of horizons that glimmered beyond the horizon line, urging the listener to follow the sound of its own sigh. In that moment, the world felt both intimate and infinite, as if the very air held the weight of all whispered truths and offered them freely to anyone willing to listen.