short fiction · 2026-10-19

The Weight of Stillness

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

In the courtyard where the wind never stirred, she stood beside the fountain, her hands resting on the cool stone. No command left her lips, yet the water slowed, then pooled into a perfect mirror that reflected the clouds without a ripple. Passersby paused, feeling a quiet settle in their chests, as if the air itself had grown heavier with patience. She did not move; she simply was, and the world bent to the gravity of her calm.