Candlelight

When she loses power, Sarah gains a memory

She was alone when the power went out; without warning as was usual in a power outage, yet Sarah felt it unfair.

Listening intently for a few minutes in the dark she reassured herself there was no one prowling about outside who might have deliberately turned off the power.

At last, she stood, one arm outstretched, feeling her way. The darkness was complete, but it pleased the old lady to realise she could, if necessary, find her way around with her eyes closed.

She reached the heavy old sideboard, which stood in exactly the same position in the living room since her husband and four burly removal men carried it in all those years ago. With trembling fingers, she fumbled in the third drawer and finding what she was looking for, a candle and a box of matches, she gave a smile.

Her hands shook but not with emotions such as fear or anxiety but with the symptoms the doctor had warned her would steadily worsen.

“Darned tremor,” she muttered, when her third attempt at striking a match failed.

Finally, a flame caught the wick. It shivered for a few moments, as if undecided whether to live or die, before settling into a gentle, steady, warm glow.

Sarah raised the candle to illuminate the familiar room, yet in the light of the candle the room took on a hushed unfamiliarity, reminding of times when she was just a little girl. She loved how the candlelight softened the shabby furniture and blurred the faded wallpaper. Setting the candle on a table next to her chair, she sat and waited for the power to return. Yet when a few minutes later it did, Sarah turned off the bright table lamp and continued to enjoy the candlelight.

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