short fiction · 2026-10-19

Echoes in the Walls

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

The room breathes in slow cycles, inhaling the sighs left behind by those who paused at the threshold. Photographs frown at the ceiling, their smiles faded to whispers. A half‑filled teacup on the windowsill holds the ghost of steam, a silent toast to mornings that never arrived. In the corner, a coat hangs like a sentinel, its pockets full of unmailed letters, each fold a secret pressed into wool. The floorboards remember every step, every hesitation, storing them as grain in wood, waiting for a footfall that will finally hear them.