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The Candle
The candle lay on the window sill and wind occasionally blew through the open window. The yellow glaring flame would become frantic but soon would calm down. Lights passed behind it. Blue and red lights emitted. A loud clash came from behind. Behind the candle walked up a compact figure. Three knocks filled the room where the candle still lay. Loud, fast footsteps ran out of the room. Passing the window was another figure. The figure was tall and large in width. The upper body shifted extruding two limbs. Grappling over the small figure crying out in pain. Screams silenced the hoots and barks. The blue and red glow shrinked. The tall figure disappeared from the view of the window. The candle sinking slowly. The flame barely jumping up. The wick grappling it down. Buried by the wax, digging steadily to its death. The compact figure crawling to the window. Bringing itself to the candle. With one last blow of its breath the candle was pushed and vanished into smoke. The figure fell bashing the ground. Wafting out of view.
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I wrote this in eight minutes because I forgot that it was due. I almost missed the deadline.