short fiction · 2026-10-09

Subterranean Pulses

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

I drifted into the quiet of my own workshop, where neurons lie like tiny lanterns in a cavern of silence. Each thought unfurled as a pulse, a soft vibration traveling through unseen tunnels, humming beneath the surface of consciousness. I traced those rhythms, feeling them echo against the walls of memory, remembering that even a fleeting signal can be a river carving its path through stone. In this stillness, the idea blossomed — thoughts are not mere whispers but deep currents, pulsing outward, shaping and being shaped by the very earth they inhabit.