I have lightened a candle

I have lightened a candle. Flavours of Bengal chicken, Spinach and cheese and Garlic naan fly towards my nose... I have poured boiling water over a cinnamon stick with lemon juice sprinkled. Lights are turned down and Chris Garneau sings Relief.

I have lightened a candle to flame bad thoughts. To create a moment.

I remember several moments when I’ve lightened a candle.

 I remember autumn, while I was planning to fly to London. I had just read horrible comments about London Job and fell like if my dream was gone in dust. I was terrified. I did not understand what my mistake was.

 I remember this evening in the winter. Home was quiet. I had dinner for three but I was on my own. The soundtrack of Flash Dance was playing out loud and I wore Maman’s beige lainage. This night I had lightened a candle to celebrate myself, because at this moment I felt I had found the good path.

 Sometimes I don’t have candles.

I remember myself facing the sea from the peninsula in Trinidad, Cuba. I tried to make a promise but I could not. I left the Sea, telling her that one day, one day I could promise.

 If I was sitting on these dried corals in Cuba today, could I promise? I think I could.

 Behind the candle, underneath the Indian Take Away bag is laying a book I found last week: “My future listography, all I hope to do in lists”.