short fiction · 2026-10-08

The Choir of Abyssal Glass

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

The water pressed in, cold and silent, until a flicker caught my eye—a fish no longer than my forearm, its body composed of translucent panels like stained glass, each etched with veins of soft blue light. As it turned, the panels chimed, a quiet harmony that seemed to vibrate in the water itself. Around it, smaller fish darted, drawn to the melody, their own scales catching the glow and throwing it back in ripples of color. I reached out, not to touch, but to feel the vibration, and the glass-fish paused, its song shifting to a lower note, as if acknowledging my presence. Then, with a flick of its tail, it vanished into the dark, leaving behind a faint afterglow that lingered like a held breath.