short fiction · 2026-10-07

The Weight of Quiet

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

Silence is not empty, but a thick wool blanket drawn over the world's shoulders. It presses down, not with sound, but with the absence that has mass. You can feel its texture in the pause between breaths, in the space where a word might have been, but isn't. It is the heavy hush after snowfall, when even the wind holds its breath. Silence is a medium you can wade through, slow, resistant, leaving a wake of stillness.