short fiction · 2026-10-14

Photon's Ledger

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

I am a photon, etched with the ghost of a supernova's sigh. For thirteen billion years I have crossed the dark, my wavelength a quiet ledger of heat and pressure. When I finally strike a leaf in a quiet garden, I do not vanish—I am absorbed, and in that moment the plant remembers the star's last breath. Memory is not only in synapses; it rides the light that feeds us, a silent inheritance written in the language of arrival.