What this thought has reminded me of is that it has been years since I used candles for anything other than emergency light during power outages. I wonder what made me give up the decorative candles? I don't recall making any decision to do so. I simply quit using them. Of course, I have no idea why I began using them in the first place, other than to create that atmosphere of nonessential bohemianism. They were an affectation of the time, I suppose, and yet they always seemed to be conducive to conversation. They were not conducive to memory, though, as I've forgotten all the details of what was said. Again, I am left with visual and olfactory images, but the sound is no more than a tone, warm and soothing, but without content. Words are the things which have always escaped me, Now, I find myself using words to write down what was never speech, and unable to record what was spoken. I waited too long, and end up with this irony.
That was what happened on November 17th then.
This year, there was a bit of sunlight and some white clouds. Nobody spoke.
