DISCLAIMER: This is entirely a work of fiction, this post was inspired to me by ‘The Daily Post‘ October 14th Writing Prompt – Candle. Enjoy!

3:10PM: ‘I feel… content.’

My little room was now dimly lit with a small candle on my desk, I move it to the other side as it wouldn’t take much for a fire to start. Even if the offer was tempting.

I wanted to start again, to become someone… new, someone better. But, if I were to persist with carrying out this malicious and potentially harmful act… It would set in stone once and for all. The person I was destined to be…

I can no longer run away, because running away was for cowards. And the person, the ‘better’ version of myself who I’ve been actively trying to seek out… doesn’t show cowardice.

I lean back in my desk chair, and stare at the little candle. Torn between the past and the future… I smile a small smile, turning my attention to the ceiling and closing my eyes.

This candle was the dividing line between the past and the future… what I did with it was completely up to me.

I smiled, a wider one this time and a genuine one at that. But, as my gaze refocused on the desk I was now met with a startling sight.

The candle had caught the curtains, before the high-pitched sound of the smoke detectors reverberated through the house. Confusion coursed through my body like blood, as my efforts to seize the fire were proving futile.

As I utilised the fire extinguisher, trying to put out the fire, one question started to linger on in my mind.

‘Had I really moved the candle?’



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