By Jonathan Berman
The two hovered over the single candle, like a little engine that could,
as the wind threatened to snuff its existence, the shared enthusiasm of the
boys became a sort of protective cave for the tiny candle to endure... and
in a way it looked upon them like a child looks up at its new parents...
and it was then that the giant mosquito dive bombed into the candle, becoming an
instant fresco on the candle's illuminated wall... like some ancient cave painting
appearing out of nowhere... the candle was not snuffed by the darkness this night,
instead a sacrifice was given by the night to the candle, and the boys felt the presence of death looming in the air.
They played it off as a sudden and surreal meaningless and random occasion,
but both felt in their bones, a little uneasy... for they'd seen too much to
go back to the comfort that lacks intention... no, they knew what this meant all too well.
That night they slept with both eyes closed, but somewhere within, questioning
what sacrifices were still yet to come...