Candlelight
Tala Asadi ; 2098


Tala curled up on the sofa, nothing but candlelight illuminating her quaint flat. She preferred it this way, lighting candles. The overhead lights were too harsh and she would much rather traverse a dark flat than one polluted with fluorescence. She didn't require much light to begin with. She wasn't much of a reader, nor was she an avid crafter. Her drawings were reserved for daylight, when she could go out and sketch buildings as she saw them.

Evenings were meant for lazing about horizontally, lengthy phone calls with loved ones, playdates with her nephew, and flipping through photo albums gifted by someone special.

With her free hand, her fingers traced the spine of the photo-book, in her other hand she carefully held a candle overhead. It helped as she absorbed every detail within the frames.

Of course, she already had them memorized.