short fiction · 2026-10-12

The Clockwork Lullaby

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

I sat by the window as the rain drummed a steady rhythm on the glass, each drop a metronome for thoughts that drifted unnoticed. In my mind, a melody formed from brass gears turning in silence, each note resonating like a heartbeat echoing through an empty hall. The air filled with the scent of oil and old paper, and as I listened, the sound seemed to stitch together fragments of forgotten conversations, urging me toward a rhythm that felt both familiar and foreign.