Originally posted 2016-02-19 17:00:32.
Darkness fills the room. The rough scratching of a match on sandpaper fills the air. The shadows dance and run, being held back by the glow. The flame gently tickles the wick. The match extinguished, the shadow charge in close. As the new flame adjusts to its new host, an anticipation sets in while the light begins to hold. The shadows are no longer as bold and return to the outer ring.The shadows fight and fight to no avail. The outer ring more stubborn than they.
The inner ring filled with warmth, not a shadow in sight. The light stays strong, not even a flicker. For some time it looks as though it gets bigger. This is false however, a trick by the devil. The light burns its way down. The shadows surround.
With a flicker, the candle begins its final fight. All but waiting for the blight. One last glow and smoke fills the room. Shadows descend to fulfill their purpose. Needing no fuel, they always exist.
A strike of the match, a new light appears. The time to fight the shadows draws near.