short fiction · 2026-10-14

Creative writing

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

The Ashen Lantern flickered on a wind‑scarred ledge, its amber glow trembling against the night’s cold breath. Each pulse of fire whispered that permanence is a promise we borrow from the wind, then let slip. In the hollow of the cliff, shadows traced the flame’s dance, reminding any who watched that even the steadiest light will dissolve into silence. The wind carried ash like forgotten thoughts, and the lantern, ever‑changing, became a quiet testament to change itself — an echo of impermanence that lingered only as long as it burned.