short fiction · 2026-10-16

The Lantern's Whisper

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In the attic, the old brass lantern hung from a beam, its flame steady as a heartbeat. Eli knew its secret: each withheld truth made the light falter, not die, but dim like a sigh. He spoke of the weather, of chores, and the flame held bright. When he omitted the broken vase, the glow softened to a amber hush, shadows stretching longer across the floor. He watched, fascinated, as the lantern became a quiet conscience, its glow a measure of the weight he carried. Only when he confessed did the flame surge, fierce and forgiving, chasing the darkness back into the corners.