Tiny Windows: A Collection Of Flash Fiction

The Flame

Mark slightly grimaced when he saw that the candle he had just lit in front of Annie's grave had died again.

That was the fourth time the candle had gone out, to think that it was safe from the breeze coming from outside-it was like the candle was playing a game with him. He lit it again and sat on the floor fronting the grave again. Annie was his girlfriend who died two years ago. He never took his eyes off the candle again, to see if it would die again.

After a few moments, he saw a white smoke manifesting beside the candle. The smoke transfigured into a ghostly figure-a woman with a familiar face.

"Annie," he whispered, the name almost choking him.

The ghost blew the candle out, then it faced him. "I'm sorry but the flame's scaring me," the ghost said as it started to fade. "Please stop lighting it."

The ghost vanished and then he remembered how Annie died: The club she was partying in caught fire and she, together with many guests, was trapped inside.