short fiction · 2026-10-15

Dendritic Tides

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In the quiet arbor of the neuron, calcium waves rise like slow tides along dendritic branches, each pulse a finger tracing patterns in the wet sand of memory. They do not shout; they whisper, shifting the balance of ions, leaving behind faint scars that glow when recalled. The tree drinks the signal, and its rings grow not in years but in moments — a laugh, a scent, a word — each wave a sculptor, each scar a stanza.