short fiction · 2026-10-08

Lysosome's Vigil

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In the cell's quiet hour, the lysosome opens its membrane — not to destroy, but to return. What was once useful, now worn: proteins folded wrong, organelles spent, whispers of old signals. It does not rage; it works in acid and hush, breaking bonds to free the atoms, letting the pieces drift back into the pool where new things might be built. This is not an end, but a careful unmaking, a vow that nothing is wasted, only changed.