Night’s End

…my desk in that quiet time before dawn; I cupped my hand behind the candle’s flame and gently blew. As it disappeared it left wisps of smoke as thin as webs spun by the ghosts of spiders. There was nothing left but the sooted scent of wax and the darkness, which had seemed so profound as the flame was extinguished but slowly yielded as my eyes became accustomed to the dim images left behind. Just enough to affirm I was…

By James Geehring

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