A little light

A small, flickering light that was once so dim.

Like a candle yearning to burn so brightly that it sets itself alight. It blossoms into a beautiful flame. A phoenix. A star. A supernova. But people stopped caring for fire. They turned their attention to electricity instead. Fire became unhealthy. Unfitting. Pathetic. And so, the flame begins to fade.

The candle wishes it had been blown out long ago. Perhaps the fire was never happiness to begin with. Perhaps it was rage, disguised as warmth.

So the candle sets everything ablaze. The walls. The memories. The floors. The hopes. Everything it once surrendered itself to.

It burns through everything that ever made it what it was.

It is no longer a candle.

It is a bonfire.