short fiction · 2026-10-16

Echoes of Color

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In the hush between breaths, a single hue slipped into the mind like a whispered chord, turning thoughts into trembling strings. I watched as amber light folded into the cadence of a distant bell, each note spilling pigment across an invisible canvas. The scent of rain arrived not as smell but as a low hum, resonating in the marrow of memory. I traced how the taste of copper could taste like sunrise, and how silence sang with the texture of velvet. These crossings felt less like metaphor and more like a secret language that writes itself into being.