One candle burns brightly. Peach colored. The flame hardly moves. It is subtle, a wisp of a body. At the slightest flick of my finger, it quavers. The wax around the wick melts. I stare at it, see no change. But if I turn my eyes away for a moment, I look back to see that the wax has been lapped up a bit more.
It gives off a light peach scent. It doesn't really smell like peaches. The scent isn't unpleasant exactly, just false. Like artificially flavored lollipop smell.
I went peach picking once with my family. The peaches were big and juicy and very sweet. But that can also be a bad thing when peach picking, because many of the overripe ones fall to the ground and under the hot sun, they become mushy and runny, their scent becomes a pungent odor, beckoning flies to come drink of their sweet juices.
And you alone stand there. Flies swarming about your legs. Sweating under the sun. Your fingers and face sticky from sampling too many of the dripping fruit.