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Daily Snippit: Other Fiction

There was something almost religious about making candles. Becca dipped the candle into the bath of blue wax, then held it out as she counted to thirty in whispered breaths. You couldn’t hurry, making candles this way, you had to slow down and pace yourself to the wax. Dip. Pause. Dip. The rest of the world faded away to the corners and everything focused down to that heartbeat. Dip. Pause. Dip. She’d often wondered if this was what making the world felt like. Slow, steady, building layer on layer until you reached the point where you knew it was done. No fanfare, or bells, or timers, just the feeling of done.

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Martha Bechtel

My name is Martha Bechtel and I write fantasy and science fiction stories, paint small model horses silly colors, cast resin and plaster magnets, code random code (and Wordpress plugins)... Come on in and join in the fun!

This Post Has 4 Comments

  1. ex_rubyliss861 December 23, 2005 Reply

    🙂

    1. Martha Bechtel December 23, 2005 Reply

      I soooooo need to stop staring at the candles. o_O;;

      Mmmm… fire. O_O

      1. ex_rubyliss861 December 23, 2005 Reply

        *hides matches and flammable objects*

        So is the dead mouse smell gone yet?

        1. Martha Bechtel December 23, 2005 Reply

          Mmm, not sure at this point. *points to two small smelly candles* With the mopping, lysol, and now smelling things burning… I think the dead-mouse-smell is probably dead. I’ll find out tuesday, I suppose. 😛

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