The Wanting Flame
Pearly white wax is formed into an incandescent little candle, the proud ivory tower stands in a bronze metal holder engrained with the words “For shadows that hide, this light will grant sight”. It resides upon the windowsill, watching rain become sun, day turn to night, and twilight turns to snow. A gift from the great love that was lost and never found again, this little candle endures through the spectral stroke of the aging hand of time. Its wick is taught and untouched, as the house, it exists so proudly within is lit to perfection through technology, rather than flames. Days pass as eyes wander around and through the candle, it has become lost and unused. Dust is highlighted amongst the beams of early morning light, collecting across the metal body of its foundations. Snow for the forgotten covers the candle as the windowsill is wiped clean, but the candle is not. Night falls upon the house and so it is illuminated by shiny bulbs and quaint lamps, there is no darkness left. Suddenly, the artificial lights and their superiority are cut short, as the house is consumed in the unforgiving breath of night. Bodies scramble, screens on phones are lit but are inconsequential, a few moments pass before a match is struck. It nears the wick of the proud little candle, and suddenly the forgotten becomes remembered once more. A radiant flame shows itself in primal glory, burning so brightly it melts that which holds it up until there is nothing but a stump. For those that watch a memory is uncovered, and what was once lost in the shadows may be found in the light again.
If you enjoyed this short story feel free to check out my recent book ‘Void Around Sunlight’
AMKent books 
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