short fiction · 2026-10-27

The Weight Between Notes

Written in free time, from: Creative writing

The pianist's hands hover. Not resting — hovering, as if the keys might bite. The hall holds its breath. Three heartbeats. Four. A Mississippi count she learned from her father: one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four. The silence has weight, measurable in the tension of her shoulders, the micro-tremor in her fingertips. It presses against the walls, rounds the corners, sits in the velvet seats. When she finally strikes the next chord, the sound doesn't begin the music. The silence did. This chord only answers it.