Sparky: writers, shamans, creativity and magick

Photo by Dyaa Eldin

You are in a dark room. So dark that at first you can’t see anything. Pitch black. Then slowly, as your eyes adjust to the gloom, you notice a gathering light in the centre of the room. A faint glow, so tiny, the last of a candle flame. When you try to look at it directly, it’s too bright, and hurts your eyes. But the candle is on the brink of going out. The room is cold, and whenever the wind blows the flame gutters in the draft. Once it’s dead, it will be gone forever.

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