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A life with Candle
Jan. 29th, 2004 09:55 amWe haven't had television, or internet, since Sunday. Coming home has been an affair with the radio, with books, with conversation and with Candle in the bathroom.
Like last night: I was home by myself until 10 pm, because of Kevin's evening creative writing course. After I ate my spinach & cheese quiche, drunk my Earl Grey tea with a pinch of Baileys and wolfed down half a chocolate bar, I figured it would be nicer to sit inside a pool of hot water, accompanied in the darkness by one flickering flame, than sit by myself in a cold red bedroom flicking through boring radio stations.
We call it "Bath with Candle" - in the singular. Candle is almost an entity, a presence that reassures. We light Candle with a cheap pink lighter we keep beside "him". We also keep Candle in the bathroom. Candle is quite thick, round, and he gives off a hint of vanilla when he is burning in the night.
I filled up the bathtub and locked the bathroom door. I turned off the light and lit Candle. I put him by the window and slowly lowered myself into the scalding water. There were bubbles everywhere. The tiles quickly became slick with moisture, Candle's flame waved in the air with happiness. I must have laid in the water for an hour, watching my skin shrink like a prune, watching Candle watching me.
Candle inspires me, somehow. I have the strangest thoughts in his presence, in the water. I should have had a tape recorder last night so I could have spewed out all the recollections and ideas that bubbled to the surface. But, just as Candle took my imagination to places unexplored, he also trapped me in the water as if I were just as evanescent as the steam. I didn't want to go anywhere, I didn't want to think - despite so many ideas. As Candle flittered and flickered, I succumbed to a half-life behind my eye-lids.
I wonder if Candle will like the new apartment, the new bathroom. I told Kevin that Candle will be happy because we have a beautiful skylight. He can look at the stars when he is all alone, when his wicker is not burning. I'm also contemplating asking Kevin if we should get a little brother or sister for Candle.
Like last night: I was home by myself until 10 pm, because of Kevin's evening creative writing course. After I ate my spinach & cheese quiche, drunk my Earl Grey tea with a pinch of Baileys and wolfed down half a chocolate bar, I figured it would be nicer to sit inside a pool of hot water, accompanied in the darkness by one flickering flame, than sit by myself in a cold red bedroom flicking through boring radio stations.
We call it "Bath with Candle" - in the singular. Candle is almost an entity, a presence that reassures. We light Candle with a cheap pink lighter we keep beside "him". We also keep Candle in the bathroom. Candle is quite thick, round, and he gives off a hint of vanilla when he is burning in the night.
I filled up the bathtub and locked the bathroom door. I turned off the light and lit Candle. I put him by the window and slowly lowered myself into the scalding water. There were bubbles everywhere. The tiles quickly became slick with moisture, Candle's flame waved in the air with happiness. I must have laid in the water for an hour, watching my skin shrink like a prune, watching Candle watching me.
Candle inspires me, somehow. I have the strangest thoughts in his presence, in the water. I should have had a tape recorder last night so I could have spewed out all the recollections and ideas that bubbled to the surface. But, just as Candle took my imagination to places unexplored, he also trapped me in the water as if I were just as evanescent as the steam. I didn't want to go anywhere, I didn't want to think - despite so many ideas. As Candle flittered and flickered, I succumbed to a half-life behind my eye-lids.
I wonder if Candle will like the new apartment, the new bathroom. I told Kevin that Candle will be happy because we have a beautiful skylight. He can look at the stars when he is all alone, when his wicker is not burning. I'm also contemplating asking Kevin if we should get a little brother or sister for Candle.
