Perching on the edge of the bathtub, I stare down into the flame of the thick, squat candle until my eyes burn and water.
I’m fascinated.
Fascinated by the candle.
Fascinated by how life in its entirety seems to freeze when there’s no electricity to sustain its forward movement.
Fascinated by where the mind goes when there’s nothing to distract it from the impending darkness.
I reach into a jumbled box of forsaken artifacts of my past retrieved from the laundry room closet.
My fingers close around an old Barbie doll.
Holding one leg I gently run her through the flame.
The candle snakes its tongue along her naked curves, savoring her plastic skin, slowly blackening and melting it.
I’m fascinated.
Fascinated by the candle.
Fascinated by how the Barbie only becomes more beautiful in her misshapen ruin.
Fascinated by the process of feeding my childhood to the flame’s insatiable appetite.
Fascinated by where the mind goes when there’s nothing to distract it from the impending darkness.