The shrinking candle flickered against the onslaught of darkness. It wasn’t romantic now in the old, stone cottage as the storm raged and the sea crashed against the cliffs. With the battery dead in her laptop and phone, Kirsty had nothing to occupy her other than the small orange flame that hungrily devoured the candle.
The door flung open. Kirsty let out a scream as the howling wind swirled around the room.
“It’s only me. Chinese as promised,” said Mark cheerily, slamming the door shut. “Locals say the power often goes out up here. I got a few more candles too.” Kirsty relaxed in the warm, comfortable glow.
Rapidly, a chill descended around them, candles snuffed out, swamping the room in darkness. The wind swirled around Kirsty’s legs. She couldn’t speak as the candles suddenly lit; revealing a shadow; a figure standing by the door, looking out.
“I see it too,” whispered Mark. The door flew open and the figure drifted out. “Come on!” Mark followed to the edge of the cliffs, mesmerised by the shadow, his candle not blowing out in the wind.
“Look!” Kirsty pointed out to sea where a light bobbed erratically towards the rocks, watching in silence as the light changed direction and the glowing of the candle faded.
“What was it and will it come back?” Kirsty asked, walking back carefully, directed by the light from their cottage.
“Who knows but one thing is certain Kirsty, lives were saved tonight.”
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