short fiction · 2026-10-15

Ridge Light

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

The sun, low and thin, slipped its gold between the farthest ridges, where the stone held the day's warmth like a breath. Each crest caught a flicker, a brief flare that seemed to pulse from within the rock itself, then faded as the light moved on, leaving the slopes in a cool, violet hush. I watched the play of brightness and shadow travel slowly, as if the mountains were exhaling light in slow, silent waves, and I felt the quiet rhythm settle into my own chest.