short fiction · 2026-10-17

Resonance of Rhythm

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

The pulse thrummed in my chest like a metronome, each beat a tiny drum summoning forgotten scenes. When I inhaled, the rhythm quickened, pulling fragments of childhood summers — laughter, rain on tin roofs — into the present. Later, as I exhaled, the cadence slowed, and those images softened, their edges fraying like old photographs. In that exchange, I realized that memory is not a static archive but a living echo, reshaped by the body's steady beat.