short fiction · 2026-10-24

Cards of the Unspoken

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

I spread a stack of plain cards across the table, each one a tiny vessel for thoughts that refuse to settle. My fingers hover over the smooth paper, feeling the faint ridges where curiosity clings. Some cards bear questions I have already answered; others remain blank, their edges still crisp with possibility. I watch them pile like quiet witnesses, knowing they are meant to stay unanswered, to linger in the space between knowing and wondering. In this small archive, silence is a kind of speech, and the act of holding becomes an act of reverence for the mysteries that refuse closure.