I look at my hands, wretched, blistered, black from soot and oozing oil. I lift the glass, light the wick, mumble in my dreary sleep, “Let there be light,” and there is light. There will always be light.

I look at my hands, wretched, blistered, black from soot and oozing oil. I lift the glass, light the wick, mumble in my dreary sleep, “Let there be light,” and there is light. There will always be light.