Quoted By:
The Light Within
In a quiet antique shop, tucked between dusty bookshelves and porcelain figurines, stood a lamp named Lumen. He was no ordinary lamp—his stained-glass shade shimmered with deep blues and purples, and his brass base was elegantly curved. Yet, despite his beauty, Lumen never felt like he belonged.
The other lamps in the shop were practical, straightforward, and uniform. The tall floor lamps boasted their stability, the sleek modern lamps prided themselves on efficiency, and the tiny bedside lamps whispered about their warm, comforting glow. Lumen, however, felt different. His light was softer, more colorful, and he couldn’t help but feel… out of place.
“You shine too strangely,” scoffed a rigid desk lamp.
“You’re too decorative to be useful,” muttered a stark-white LED.
Lumen tried to dim his light, to blend in, but it never felt right.
Then, one day, a man named Felix entered the shop. He had kind eyes and a hesitant smile, the kind that suggested he, too, had spent much of his life feeling like he didn’t quite belong. As he wandered the aisles, his gaze landed on Lumen. Something in him sparked.
“This one,” Felix said to the shopkeeper. “This lamp is perfect.”
For the first time, Lumen was taken home.
