Theme # 45: Torch


It was dark in the house, and Marvolo could not sleep again. The insomnia had started more than a year ago, and then it had stuck, like a plague that refused any treatment. It had stayed, and with it had deteriorated whatever was left of the good in Marvolo Gaunt.

The man rose to his feet, now, wand raised like a torch, its feeble rays diverging in the room, the only source of light in the otherwise, dark den. As he shuffled his feet along, it was a pity to see the guy who had once been almost handsome, now.