The Damp Roman Candle

‘Life is a gift from God. Cherish it, my child,’ the Father had said to her, smiling, patting her shoulder. She had smiled in return as the morning sun’s oblique rays fell on her soft, plump cheek. She had just turned eight. She remembered that tonight, twenty years later, as she stood in the open wing of the cafeteria of her office building, watching the roaring skies flash purplish white. The fireworks of nature had begun for the night—both within her head and without. The question was, how would it all end?