You find yourself alone, surrounded only by black and white tents. It is quiet. You realise you must have been daydreaming as you walked for you are now separated from your friends. You realise that you've been daydreaming a lot recently. Reaching out, you slip back a cut in the tent in front of you. The fabric is soft to touch and reminds you of something you can't quite put your finger on. You almost don't want to let go, but you do, and instead let the monochrome stripes brush against your arm as you let go.
You're not entirely sure what you're looking at. There is a tall tree, its twisting branches curve in intricate patterns but never touch each other, never touch the candles. The white candles burn gently, there's a faint crackle in the tent that makes you think of a bonfire, but you can't smell smoke. It's as if you stepped into a forest, the strong scent of damp soil and rotting branches, the cool air that fills your lungs. But you feel warm as if you sit by the fireplace on Christmas Eve's night. You feel comfortable and safe.
You notice a large basket by your feet, faintly seeing the colour of butterscotch weaving with twigs of ginger before remembering that everything is black or white. Coal covered roots peek out from the ground and you wonder faintly how they transport a live tree across the world. You do not remember reading the sign outside but pick a candle up regardless, knowing what to do. You step towards the tree and watch for a while, observing each flickering candle light. You spot one so old that it is barely alive, the wax has melted below it in white tears and the wick wavers from the weight of a happy flame. The candle you hold is almost as tall as your hand. Gently holding the end of the shining wax, you reach forwards to light the candle in an almost reverse birthday celebration, making a wish as the flame of the dying candle catches light on yours. You feel happy, refreshed, and find a spot to place your candle on the tree. You stand for a moment more, watching the tree in silence before leaving the tent.
You smile, a spark of hope has lit the candle inside you.
