The Wax Hollow

I climbed over the rim of the potpourri bowl and patted across the cool oak. Resting on a flat ceramic saucer nearby was a thick, unlit pillar candle. I stepped onto the saucer edge and reached up to the candle's top. The pale wax formed a smooth, shallow dish around a stiff, braided wick. I tested the surface with one foot; it felt firm, waxy, and remarkably steady. Leaning my back against the sturdy wick, I settled quietly into the hollow. From here, the dark hallway feels very still and peaceful.