short fiction · 2026-10-11

Seams of Remembering

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

Moss creeps through the gutter seam like green thread stitching time together. Each rain swells it slightly, and I remember kneeling here as a child, watching water carry leaves downstream. The chalk on the front steps has faded to ghosts—hopscotch squares barely visible, yet when the sun hits just right, I see my sister's laugh in the dust, feel the chalk stick to my fingertips. These are not grand monuments, but quiet seams where memory leaks through, damp and persistent.