The candle flickered, fell, went out.
Brian Mosley stared at the empty wick, watching absent-mindedly as a shiver of smoke floated up through the air. The smell of burning wax met his nostrils.
"Brian, I wish you wouldn't do that," his wife Laura said, irritated. "I've only just got them all burning." She reached into her pocket to pull out a cigarette lighter, but before she could hold it to the wick, Brian caught her arm.
"Why bother lighting the candles? They still won't make anything easier for you."
"Don't be stupid," she muttered, wrenching her arm free from his grip and holding the cigarette flame to the candle, nodding with satisfaction as the wick caught light.
"You know as well as I do, whatever you do will be wrong," Brian said morosly, puckering up his lips to blow on the candle again. He had no idea why it had become such a past-time this evening, but for some reason the sight of the flame disappearing after his will was somewhat satisfying. At least something was under his control, and couldn't fight against him.
Laura stayed silent, wiping her hands on her apron and pushing her hair back from her face. "I'm going to get ready," she said, walking from the room, untying the apron as she went.
"Waste of time," Brian muttered solemnly, watching as the candle flickered, fell, and went out.
... this is meant to be something along the lines of Brian's parents coming over for a dinner party. They hate Laura, and... that was really about it. :P
Heh, I would make this longer, but I've got to get off the computer :P You guys have a turn! *wail*