A short story on the fine line between hope and pessimism Whenyou light a candle, you also cast a shadow. —Ursula K. Le Guin “Let there be light in this unending night,” the brothers Pu and Tim prayed.
A fervent wish that, together, they whispered into the darkness. One night, all of a sudden, the moon lit up an otherwise completely black sky. Stars also appeared, some from as far as the edges of the universe, but they hung like sparkling jewels in the dome of darkness.
At first, both Pu and Tim were alarmed. They had been so used to the darkness of the night that to both of them the sky appeared to be on fire, little fires that, together, formed a conflagration. They held on to each other, keeping their eyes closed, almost squinting through the new light.
There was a heaving of collective breath, though in one more than the other of the two brothers it was the equivalent of hyperventilation. At first, both Pu and Tim were alarmed. They had been so used to the darkness of the night that to both of them the sky appeared to be on fire, little fires that, together, formed a conflagration.
They held on to each other, keeping their eyes closed, almost squinting through the new light. There was a heaving of collective breath, though in one more than the other of the two brothers it was the equivalent of hyperventilation. At first, both Pu and Tim were alarmed.
They had been so used to the darkness of the night that to both of them the sky appeared to be on fire, little fires .