The Candle and the Umbrella

“I’m going to die today,” said the sprite, seated at the edge of his bed.

His name was Stint, and today was just like any other day, except for one key difference. He’d had a dream, so real it felt like he wasn’t dreaming at all. In this dream, he stood across from himself, and when his other self took his hands, he felt the touch, plain as the short nose on his face or the wings on his back.

“You’re going to die today,” his dream self told him.

“Are you sure?” He asked the dream Stint.

“Positive,” he assured.

“Well, what should I do?” Stint asked, scratching his head.

His dream self merely shrugged in response and disappeared. Stint awoke moments later and sat towards the edge of his bed. Stint reached over for the large beach shell that sat on his bedside table. It was his communiconch, and if you listened closely, you could hear the ocean and the beach from which it came belonged. Even more impressive, shaking the communiconch and speaking a name into it allowed you to converse with whoever you wished.

Stint called his boss over at the wax factory. It took a few dials, but eventually, his boss’s voice came through from the other end.

“Stint, is that you?” His boss asked. “What is it?”

“Sorry to bug you, sir,” Stint began. “It’s just that… I don’t think I’ll be making it in today for my shift. You see, I’m supposed to die today.”

“That won’t do, Stint,” his boss replied. “We need you here on the wax line. Who’s going to fill the candle molds with wax if you don’t show up? No, no, you can’t die today, Stint; I have you scheduled to work this afternoon, and finding a replacement would be a nightmare at this hour.”

“As I said, I’m sorry, sir,” Stint assured him. “I’m just calling to let you know, is all.”

“Great. Then I’ll see you at work, Stint, and don’t be late,” his boss replied and hung up the conch“It was his communiconch, and if you listened closely, you could hear the ocean and the beach from which it came belonged.”.

Stint examined himself in the reflection pool. It was a bowl of water, so shiny that you could see yourself looking back in it. Little tips of his beard had grown in overnight, and he could’ve used a shave. On second thought, he decided against it. It was his last day alive, after all, and what did it matter if he had a little bit of stubble showing.

Stint dressed in something comfortable and acquired his candle from off the dresser. He wondered what the point of taking it even was, but he ended up taking it with him all the same. Every creature in Spritelund owned a candle. It was their lifeline, and when the candle burned all the way through, or if it went out for too long, it meant that sprite was at the end of their life. Stint’s candle still had a healthy bit of length to go, and yet, he was going to die today.