Last Light

1) Reeves Watercolour - Ivory Black

The candle remembers. It remembers when it was first placed on the table, before switches could command light. It glowed under gentle hands at dusk, burning softly beside conversations, laughter, and silences filled with love. It remembers the man by the window reading, the woman humming as she baked. It burned through storms and stillness, witnessing their years together. And then, one day, his chair stayed empty. For a while, the woman did not light it. The house grew quiet, but eventually, her hand returned. Though weaker, older, and trembling, she struck the match and let the flame live again. The candle glowed, steady if not as bright, through her solitary meals and sighs. Dust gathered as the years passed, until the world changed. Load shedding came. Screens died. The house fell into cold darkness. Once again, her hand reached for it, giving it life. In its light, she found comfort. When she no longer came, it waited. That’s what candles do, they wait and remember. Now cold and surrounded by melted wax, it still holds stories of love, memory, and light. And one day, when darkness falls again, it will tell its story to someone new.