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A Very Short Story



It was a November night, cold and silent
When the small cube of ice saw the candle;
Cold he was, amongst a few other cubes
Lying in insouciance, waiting for the glass.
And there on the table stood the candle,
Tall and firm, in bewitching beauty...
She was burning all alone in patience.
Everything besides her was benighted
But there was light in her, around her;
And her wax gleamed like the divine skin
Of a Goddess, under the light of her halo;
The cube of ice heard a small sound...
A heartbeat? But he had always been so cold;
Cautiously he moved out of his tray
Responding to the pull by the candle
On the invisible but strong thread.
He got awed by the glistening of himself
As he went nearer, and nearer still;
"That's enough," cried the candle.
The ice stopped and felt a beat, again.
"You are a beauty, my flame," he said.
The fluttering candle smiled;
And the flame reddened and looked down.
"I can't feel anything," she said.
"But I do. I feel warmth," said the ice.
"Warmth? How's that?" asked the candle.
The cube looked askance."Don't you know?"
"How can I? I have never been cold..."
The ice smiled back and nodded.
The November night had a blossom
In the unending expanse of snow;
And the blossom feared nothing now
For the answer to solitude had never been
Any more beautiful; any more conspicuous;
A hundred stories she shared;
And a hundred songs he sang;
When suddenly the cube said, "Wait-"
"You are growing shorter..."
The candle said, "Maybe I shall be lulled
To sleep, by the peace in your words..."
A colour of pain he saw
In those words; and a cold wind
Shook her to almost the final sleep.
Said the ice, "I shall wait here..."
"Why? For me to wake up?" asked the candle.
"Yes...aren't you?" asked the surprised ice.
He received no answer, but watched
A big drop of wax, molten
Trickle down her body callously
Until it froze in its motion
"Are you crying?" asked the ice.
"No I'm not, and now you should leave."
The bemused ice finally spoke-
"Can we have a goodbye kiss?"
The candle whispered, "For that
I need to come closer to you...
And if that happens, you shall-"
"I shall fall asleep, too, "completed the ice.
"It's better to sleep around a flame
Than to sleep in a glass of drink," he said.
The candle smiled...the slow melting
Seemed to be a long wait for repletion...
The ice felt the warmth on him
And his soul lost all his burdens
"I feel lighter...,"he spoke in satiety.
"That's what love and warmth does
To someone so cold yet alive...,"she said.
And the candle felt the first touch
Of cold water, at her feet. She watched
The small cube, growing smaller, but happy
At his own painless death.
"Why do you smile?" asked she.
"I shall finally have a pleasant dream
Once I fall asleep, love."
And soon the flame reached the cold water
Where the small ice sat motionless,
Clinging to her in a desperate attempt
To make the moment live a little longer;
The flame watched him and cried
But no wax trickled down her eyes...
"Let us watch the dark together, "said the ice
And the flame kissed the cold flesh...
The last of the cold winds gushed in
Through the constantly creaking windows.
Silence crept in, once again.
What remained on the table was cold wax,
And a small amount of water all around it;
But somewhere beneath them also remained
A very small, foolish story of contraries...


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