A Light That Burns

The sun dipped below the horizon, and Lance rose to light the lamp. As he shook out the match and replaced the glass chimney, he heard the front door open. “Raoul? Is that you?” He turned just as his twin entered the room.

Raoul’s eyes were bright and feverish, and his face was ashen. He seemed to hold himself in check, as if his body wished to leap and run about, and his hands were constantly clenching and unclenching at his…



Poet, lover, thinker, human. https://thewordartist.net 🏳️‍🌈✝️🍁 https://sunny.garden/@esther

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