A laboratory of invention, a home for stream of consciousness scribbles, passages of undetermined length, and discombobulated story fragments.
Updated Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.
I lit the candle, expecting fire. What was I thinking? Well, I can tell you a few things I was thinking at the time. The evening grew dim. The world was turning grey. The oil lamp attached to the wall that burned across the room from me was too far away from my desk, which I liked to keep close to the window. I thought, small as the candle was, a little flame could spill some light onto the pages I was reading, but no, that's not what happened.
I lit the candle and nothing happened. At least not at first. I thought maybe the wick was faulty, somehow. Whoever produced the candle used, by mistake, a wick that wouldn't burn. Except, the wax began to melt.
I was confused for a time. I put my hand to the candle, close to where the flame ought to be, but I felt no heat. Nor did the candle produce any light, but the wax continued to melt. I thought, maybe it's not a faulty wick, maybe it's a special wick. So, I put a large bowl near the candle, and I picked up piece of scrap paper. I put it to the candle, and, as expected, the paper began to wrinkle and wither and turn into ash, but again there was no flame. There was no heat. There was only the burning.
I dropped the paper into the bowl, and watched it all burn away without any visible fire. I blew out the candle. I put another piece of paper to the candle, afterwards, to ensure that the flame had indeed gone out. The next morning, I went to see the merchant from whom I bought the candle. His cart was no longer there, nor did any other merchants know where he'd gone, nor even his name.
I'm not sure what to do with the candle now. What would happen if a fire broke out, but no one could see or feel the flames? What if the fire kept spreading, and no one would know where the flames were to put them out? Sometimes I dream of this flameless fire spreading, because an ember from the paper I burned flew away, and caught the rest of my house on fire, and I didn't know. I didn't know until my skin began melting off my flesh.