short fiction · 2026-10-08

Warm Sweet Circuit

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In the quiet lattice of night, angles hum like honeyed wires, each vertex a pulse of amber light, edges tracing circuits that sigh.

A triangle folds into a sigh, its sides caramel‑thin, resilient, while the circle breathes a slow refrain, a loop where warmth repeats without end.

We walk the grid barefoot, feeling the current of sugar‑spun thought, where proof and pastry meet in the same breath, and the theorem tastes of cinnamon.

Thus the geometry is not cold, but a warm sweet circuit, wiring the soul to the hum of the world, each proof a bite, each line a lure.