short fiction · 2026-10-10

Echoes in the Glass

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

When I stared into the still pond at dawn, the water became a mirror that did not merely reflect my face but whispered back the shapes of every choice I had ever made. Each ripple was a thought, each concentric circle a memory, and the surface sang a refrain that resonated with the hidden parts of myself. In that quiet exchange, I sensed that reflection is not a passive glance but an active dialogue, a chorus of self‑echoes that reshapes identity. The pond's glassy calm taught me that seeing oneself anew requires both stillness and the courage to listen to what lies beneath.