He was afraid of the dark. So, every night he would light a candle next to his bed. In the morning, the candle would be burned out and its wax melted on the dark wood of its bedside table.
One night, the candle fell off to the floor. Quickly and silently, the fire grew, devouring everything around it: the rugs, the clothes, the sheets and blankets, the wood and the flesh. He never woke up.
At least he died in the light, away from the dark he feared so much.
Pedro Simão Mendes