Every morning, she watches him clean his kerosene lantern. How tenderly he replaces the wick, how he cleans the glass with undivided attention. When he’s asleep, she breaks the wretched thing. Her body burns with fever that night. She wakes up soaked in sweat. It smells of kerosene.
Where have you been Hema? Love the little story it sounds Like witchcraft!
Hi Sue! Itโs always so nice to read your comment ๐ I havenโt been blogging much, Gave birth to my 2nd child in November ๐ motherhood is taking every ounce of energy I have. Hope you are well ๐
Oh, Hema, very many congratulations, I am delighted for you. ๐
Thank you ๐
Just wow. Love it!
Thank you so much!
You are always so good with surreal stories, Hema! Love this one.
Thank you, Sara ๐
I love what you did here, especially the tone change from something that started out feeling like a beautiful moment. I guess he didn’t put the same loving care into his relationship!
Thank you Stacie! Yes, that was what I was going for. Iโm so glad it came through ๐
You captured the jealousy here perfectly.
Thank you, Nate!
Oh, my. Maybe the husband should have paid a little more attention to his wife’s wick. :-0
Lol!
Well written! ๐
Thank you so much!
Most welcome! ๐
Ooh the jealousy is palpable! “the wretched thing”
Thanks, Katie! Yours was one of my favorite micros this week.