There’s a candle on my desk that I light when the air gets stale in my office. I’ve had it for awhile, and I’ve used it fairly regularly (what can I say, I love the flicker!).
Today the wax is gone. My candle started strong, with a tall, crystal-orange flame reaching for the ceiling, but in about thirty seconds dwindled to a small bluish-red ball surrounding what’s left of the stumpy Glade wick. The glass ball container is clouded over with residue from past lights. It’s all used up, done.
Sometimes there’s nothing left to burn.



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