The
Candle’s Party
“Lucinda Candle,
you are gorgeous,” one of my cousins exclaimed. I fluttered my eyelids before
turning to gaze at my reflection in the mirror. I certainly was pretty; there
were no two ways about it. My creamy white dress had been embossed with the
most exquisite roses and I knew there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that I was
by far the loveliest of all the candles at the party. My friends clustered
around me oohing and awing, and no doubt we did make a charming sight. Someone
opened the door; it was one of the people who thought they owned us,
and we quietly and in obstructively moved back to our positions on the mantle
shelf above the fireplace.
