Before Electricity.

Candlelight flickered, dancing across surfaces all over the room. The bottom of the candle was cool to the touch, but the flame burned steadily, heating the air. A sweet aroma of vanilla came from the wax, just strong enough to be tasted on the tip of one's tongue; sugar, with a hint of danger in the ash aftertaste. Sometimes it would hiss and pop, an echo of its greater cousin, the fireplace. Sometimes it was quiet, a shy guest. But mostly, the small candle relied on its orange and yellow flame to speak for itself. It gave a happy glow, reminding of life's simple things.