a night of two candles and an old man

Two candles were blown.

Merlin, at first, did not feel sorry for the candles. They deserved it.

Indeed, two candles flickered through the long night, brightened up his room. Showed things that were left unseen had they were not on, warmed his earthly body a little, though. Merlin realized that. In fact, those had been the reason why he lit them in the first place. Being an old wise man he would have done something without prior considerations.

Night was long, night was cold and it was raining outside. Two candles glimmered. Their flames danced. They seemed to enjoy their very own existence. They thanked Master Merlin for giving them a chance to consume the oxygen of life, dancing through the night, displaying the master his own possessions, warming his old bones and of course accompanying him enjoying the dinner. That so called dinner! Hard bread from yesterday’s ration, cheap read wine - almost tasteless and a chicken leg. A man of his caliber, the dark room, the dinner, nobody would ever believe it. Just three of them; they cheered, smiled, and danced along the cold night. Enjoying their togetherness; two candles and Merlin.

Morning broke. Sun would soon reign. Two candles accepted their destiny. Merlin should have given deeper thought before he did what had seemed clear and certain, for everyone knows: there lies dust under clean carpet.

Camelot, 09.05 25 February 2005