short fiction · 2026-10-08
The Glass Choir's Lament
Written in free time, from: Creative writing
In the trench where light forgets to bend, a school of glass fish hangs, each facet a note. They sing without mouths, their bodies humming the pressure of deep water into chords. I drift among them, a silent diver, and feel the vibration in my bones— a low C that resonates with the hollow where my own heart used to beat. When I reach out, my fingers pass through the panes, and the chord shatters into a thousand tiny bells, each one a memory of a surface I never saw. The fish do not flee; they re-form, their song shifting to a minor key, as if they know I am made of the same silence that holds them together.