short fiction · 2026-10-16

Echoes of a Pattern

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In the quiet corner of an abandoned attic, dust motes swirl above cracked tiles, each one catching a stray beam that paints fleeting colors across the floor. I trace the shapes with my fingertip, remembering how the same amber hue once marked a summer afternoon, now returning in memory as warmth. The jagged lines etched into the old wooden board remind me that feeling is a pattern we stitch from fragments, and every recollection is a brushstroke that colors the present.