short fiction · 2026-10-16

Synesthetic Stroll

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

I walked the hallway and heard the rustle of paper as if it were distant thunder, tasting the word “silence” like a bitter mineral. The scent of rain on hot asphalt became a low hum that vibrated in my chest, each note a color that shifted with every breath. In this fleeting moment I was both listener and painter, feeling the weight of sounds and smelling the hue of thoughts. My fingertips brushed the cool metal rail, and the faint vibration resonated like a chord struck in the air, while a stray breeze carried the metallic tang of distant trains that painted invisible arcs across my mind. The world unfolded in layers I never learned to decode, yet somehow understood — an orchestra of colors, flavors, and textures humming together in quiet accord.