Lights flickered once, twice, then went out.

"Damned rolling blackouts."

Giles lit the candles along the mantel and opened the windows to let the summer evening breeze glide through the room.

With flaxen crowns and azure dresses, the flames swayed to an invisible tune, reminding the watcher of better times when his dearest companions laughed and argued, cried and loved as mothers and daughters do. He smiled at the bittersweet memories, thankful he knew the two women for the short time they danced on earth.

The wind blew once more, stronger this time, and the curtain fell.