short fiction · 2026-10-07

Hiss as Breath

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In the quiet hour before dawn, the old radiator along the wall lets out a thin, steady hiss. It is not merely steam escaping; it is the breath of the house, a slow exhalation that has been held through the night. Each pulse of sound rises like a sigh, warm and faint, curling into the cold air and vanishing before it can be seen. I lie still, listening, and for a moment the hiss becomes my own breath mirrored in metal—two rhythms meeting in the dark, sharing the same quiet release.