short fiction · 2026-10-14

Luminescent Quiet

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In the hush before dawn, the city’s silence is a thin veil of blue, pierced by the first pale fingers of light that slip between shuttered windows, soft as breath on glass. By midday, neon signs hum their electric lullaby, turning alleyways into vibrating cathedrals where silence feels thick, syrupy, caught in the glare of chrome and wet pavement. At night, streetlamps cast halos that pool like liquid amber, each pool a quiet island where footsteps muffle and the world seems to hold its breath, suspended between glow and shadow.