The Flame

24 Feb

When I was a small child, lighting a candle was something done with the help of a nun.  As I recall, in my mind; God being old needed some extra light to be able to see my prayers.  It was just one of the many things misconstrued at the time.

As I aged, candles were runways where wishes taxied: upon cakes or pies, or sometimes out of  a scoop of ice cream.  The confirmation of your wish by blowing out the candles, sent the request on it’s way to whoever was in charge of granting them. Some of mine, which I believe, are still in the queue.   The older you got the more complex the wishes- ergo, the more candles it took for a proper send off.  Theory 101 in the classroom of preteens.

At camp, as a loyal and true Girl Scout, candles were used as props to scare the bejeezus out of the younger brownies.  Scary tales of lovers in cars, hearing something scrape along the door thus causing them to unentwine, start the vehicle in a panic and speed away, only to find an artifical arm with a hook at the end, hanging from the door handle upon the end of the date, would send them over the edge.   Candles would always flutter with fear and the help of a conspiratorial best-bud, giving an additional creepiness to the entire performance.  Screams not withstanding, pleas were recognized and candles remained  lit, as frightened children could not endure being left to sleep in the dark.

Soon candles morphed and became prerequisite pillars for romance.   Things to dine over, gaze onto eyes through, say “I Do” by.  Ultimately and  often causing things to come full circle so that again a single stalk – on a cupcake – for a progeny’s first wish, always made with assistance by a parent, who were normally full of (hot) air. The cycle continued.

Now I sit looking out my window with a miniature pyre dancing in the glass reflection.  Soft lighting makes the worry lines seem less noticeable and the soothing scents of woodlands or sea breezes can take my mind away from the day to day.  It continues to mesmerize and memories of the past are hinted in its hues.  The candle flame holds all that is true and if you look closely, you can see a  flicker of hope for the future as well.


Plot Thickens, Thursday:  Thinking 10

A candle

The only rule: somehow incorporate the above plot element into your story (write whatever comes to mind; improvise!).

1 Comment

Posted by on February 24, 2011 in Fictional thoughts, Flash Fiction



One response to “The Flame

  1. tskraghu

    February 24, 2011 at 8:24 pm

    A wide vista of thoughts and a nice wrap-up!


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