Lions, Tigers, And Dragons

Cindy pulled fourteen thick white candles from her backpack.

They were small and smelled of vanilla, cinnamon, and nutmeg - a combination that reminded me of my mother's oatmeal.

We placed them on the carpet next to my bed in the shape of a seven-pointed star.

I shut off the lights.

The sun was setting, and brilliant orange, pink, and golden rays glinted across my shadowed room.

"Is there a reason for the scented candles?" I asked as she and I sat cross-legged in the center of them. Our knees almost touched. We were super close, but the position was like second nature to her and me.

She shrugged. "No, I just like the smell."

"Me, too." I smiled. Nervous butterflies doing the hula in my stomach. "Now what?"

"Shhhhh," she said. "I'm concentrating."

"Oops." I stifled a giggle.

She placed her middle finger and thumb together, resting her hands on her knees like she was getting ready to meditate.

Then she closed her eyes.

Her face became serene.

And suddenly, the candles flickered to