short fiction · 2026-10-18

The Tide's Ledger

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

Each wave returns not just water, but whispers— the salt-crusted lullaby of a sailor's last breath, the rusted button from a coat long dissolved, the echo of a child's laughter swallowed by storm. The tide does not forget; it archives in foam and sand, layering time like sediment, holding what the moon pulls from the deep: names carved on driftwood, promises etched in kelp, the weight of what we let go. It keeps them not as relics, but as living tides— each rise a recollection, each fall a release back into memory's ocean.