Light: Story Fragment

There is a man here, a young man, with blonde hair and light skin. He is wearing a thin white cloth, and has surrounded himself in light. You just entered from outside. You're cold and soaking wet. The rain still faintly drums on the roof, and you know it's still night outside this room.

You observe the stranger. He is surrounded by Light. All around him are lamps of different shapes and sizes, mostly pastel colored shades. On the ground, in haphazard rings around him, are lit candles, lanterns, and flashlights. Behind him, a fire burns, roaring, spitting sparks up the chimney of the fireplace. As he breathes in and out, the light in the room pulsates. It may be night outside, but you wouldn't know if you hadn't just been there. The white window shade is drawn, blocking out all of the darkness.

"How long have you been awake?" you ask.

"I don't sleep often." He responds. He's calm, collected, peaceful.

You watch him. The light fills every crack in the room, seeping into corners, brightening the closet, resting under the sheets of the bed. Everywhere is lit, except for your shadow on the door behind you. He closes his eyes to ponder something.

You approach him slowly. This case requires special treatment. You understand, you've encountered situations like this before. His eyes remain closed.

"I know why you came back." he says.

You are confused, though you don't stop moving closer. "You must be mistaken," you say quietly. "I have never before been here."

"I know your type," he says. "You may be new, but not novel."

A pit forms in your stomach. Recent memories try to surface in your mind, but you push them away.

You foot passes near a candle. The motion knocks down the flame, and a silver trail of smoke forms and passes upward.

He sniffs. He moves his hands, and places them into his lap, then opens his eyes and looks at you. "I know who you are."

You stop moving. You still doubt him, but the feeling in the room has changed. There is a audible pressure in the air, the fire crackles and pops loudly. The man shifts his weight back onto his feet. He starts to stand up.

You adjust the ring on your finger.

You almost can touch him.

Your so close.

And then,
the lights start going out.

"You shouldn't have come back"
One
"I'm done with you!"
by
"I can't take the darkness anymore!"
One.

"I wont let what happened between us ever happen again."

And as the final light goes out in the fireplace, you see his silhouette loom, you feel the force of the palm of his hand, and you are falling through the rainy air, burning.

You hit the ground, and slowly your body begins degenerating as you become part of the earth.

Reflection

I've been considering my intentions for writing this. I really don't know now, but I wrote it some night in late 2024, and I guess I was in a writing mood.

Here's part of what ChatGPT told me when asked about my intentions:

"Overall, the author appears to be exploring complex emotional themes through rich imagery and symbolism, inviting readers to reflect on their own experiences with identity, confrontation, and the interplay of light and darkness in their lives."