The Candle That Kept Flickering

We’d lit a single candle in the center of the circle, more for mood than light, and it refused to stay still. Every time a breeze from the open window nudged it, the flame wavered like it was trying to tell us something.

We laughed, shifting our chairs closer, leaning in to shield it, joking about the candle’s stubbornness. Then someone started telling a story about a childhood summer, and another chimed in with a memory that made everyone laugh until their sides hurt. The candle flickered on, as if satisfied, while we settled into the gentle rhythm of voices and warmth.

By the end of the evening, I realized the candle wasn’t just light it was the heartbeat of our circle, keeping us connected through laughter, stories, and small, shared moments.