The candle's wick is lit
The wind blows gently
The wax melts
dripping down its sides
The people grumble within the cavern
Too dark
Too little light
The wind blows strongly
The flame dances
molten wax pools at the base
More grumbling
The flame flickers
More complain
The winds grow stronger
The light dies
Smoke tendrils float up
The cave a silent tomb
A breeze passes
The telltale gray vanishes
The little ones cry in the dark
The older ones stay mute.
YOU ARE READING
Stories in Minutes
RandomConsists mainly of flash fiction and ramblings of an author. Copyright © 2015-2016 LiaBabasa. All rights reserved.
