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The Ruined Candleholder

I am a candleholder. I used to be a brilliant gold, and I was solid. But now the
paint has fallen off, and I am rusty with wormholes through me.

I wish that green candle wasn't set atop me because I knew he was a
trouble maker from the start. The master set the candle on fire with a match, then
walked into his dark bedroom. Don't ask me why he left the candle lighted. I think it
was a waste of wax. As soon as the master was gone, the candle jumped and fell.
That started the fire. Then the master ran out of the house and disappeared into the
early morning mist. In the middle of the afternoon he came back and muttered, "This
candle is worse than black cats." Then he threw me into the dark, damp forest.
Here I am two-hundred years later in a museum, the most stupid, boring place
in the world. Sometimes I wish I were still in the forest getting worn down.

by PB