There was the light, born of a candle. It was the last of its kind.
It shared a cabin with a man. One could not live without the other. The man maintained the light's duration with a single candle.
In return, the light repelled the man's primal fears of the dark and lonely night. Somehow, the harmless light satisfied the man's sense of security.
The man held on to the light's existence dearly. Its demise would mean the man's demise as well. But the light did not care at all if it ceased.
They came. And the light was gone.
