I was squinting at my Armenian candle-holder as dusk settled around us. It’s a lovely piece of art–a latticed blue sculpture which I’d picked up in Yerevan. But what would it look like lit?
“D’you have a lighter?” I asked J.
“No,” she answered, as if the notion was ludicrous. I hummed; I’d known she wouldn’t. But she wasn’t done. “I do have matches, though,” she said. “In case of the end of the world.”
“In case of the end of the world?”
“Yes. I can’t make fire from sticks.” She said this, I want to note, with absolute earnestness. I blinked.
“What if the end of the world is a flood?” I asked.
J ignored me, walking away to rummage in her purse. I collapsed into laughter. But I still used one of her matches that she was saving for the end of the world. 🙂
And I’M the weird one.