The Candle

The Candle
By Chase Winter

Cream circles in a stack of twenty seven. Cute, ornate, simple. Melting on the top where the sun rests during the day. Dust underneath it where the chaos of our little home settles in the evening. The scent faded years ago, maybe a decade ago. Back when I bought it for her, back when I bought things for her. Now it sits with no hope of a flame, waiting to be tossed out with the rest of our home. 

Next to it, a vase made of blue and purple ceramic etchings. The body of the vessel stands tall and sturdy next to the aging candle. No marks of the sun, no dust. No history of being dropped or heated. Just a messy plume protrudes from its opening. A wheat plume, perhaps. A symbol of a harvest long forgotten. Oh, how I miss those wispy autumn days. Days before the snow arrived, days before we locked our doors to shelter ourselves from the gale storm approaching. Have we protected ourselves? Are we warm?

I am not warm. No, I am naked to the breeze, that biting wind. And my fingers are numb, and my nose is a new hue of red. Like Rudolf without a sleigh, like a clown without an audience. I am frozen.

Who, might you ask, supports these objects that I speak of? Our kitchen table, of course. Our gifted, refinished, refurbished table. Sanded, painted, and stained anew by her and a friend from another lifetime. A friend who we never see, who never comes around, who doesn’t exist anymore. 

But the table stands strong and supports our home more than the very concrete under our feet. Decisions were made around this table. Changes were enacted around the table. I can smell the aroma of anise and chicken stock when I sit at this table; the smell of sickness tended to. And there were arguments and lashings, beatings and bruises around this mahogany slab in the centre of our home. Would you sit with me at this table, knowing what it knows?

So, the candle and the vase sit alone. Inches from each other but never touching. Never being lit and never being tipped. Because they know what the table knows.

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