“What is necessary to cause these specters to vanish? Light. Light in floods. Not a single bat can resist the dawn.”—Victor Hugo, Les Miserables
He read alone in the shadows of the room beneath chairside lampstand and single candle burning at a distance. He read a book of God, fate, and Destinies and point where a character lived in shadow much as he, himself, sensed in life-way.
In his reading, he came to a line and as passage finished, sunlight shone and flooded through angled doorway into room.
Light warmed his face, singed his near eye, and turning to see, was blinding.
Light had never struck him in that room, that seat—obscured (he thought) from such possibility for splendor.
He had not sought the Light. It was neither thought nor consideration as he started his day alone in thought and shadows. Light touched him all the same.
Sometimes, it is Light that seeks; illumination into shadowed heart.
He read the line again—message burning in speak before his living eyes—and in the light, something in he and room were changed.
