The dark hour
Berth struck the matchstick and lit the only candle in the dark room.
The rain was drizzling outside, and the roofs were leaking.
Berth placed the candle stand on an old desk as she made her way into the room.
"Father, you have not touched your food." Berth said, approaching the old man who was on the bed, a blanket pulled over his body.
"Micah used to feed my food to me; I can't eat because I can't raise my right arm. You will know that if you have ever bothered to check up on me." The gruff voice of the old man came from across the room.
"Have you tried raising your arm at all? I mean, it could miraculously be healed, but you refuse to take any chances." Berth said as she sat beside him on the bed, and it creaked.
"Where is she? Where is Micah? The old man sounded p
