The Weight of a Lighter

They sat next to each other quietly. The wood that they both rested upon had cooled from contact with warm flesh that had affected it earlier. It was not to say that the surface was tainted. There was no such thing as that amongst the furniture of the room. Any touch was always shined away by the hand of cleaning, allowing no touch to become permanent of the physical sense. There might have been some that ingrained themselves into the physical being, but coming across one of them was rare. It was usually the sense of the object's soul where the imprints remained.
A lighter. It should have been an ordinary object. History has deemed otherwise with a judgmental hand, uncaring of what turbulence it had created with the action. It has sent it to the hands of a famous man, a powerful man. One who was given the ability to weave the destinies of many lives. This man had touched the lighter, carried it in his pocket. Such an importance it carried with the ability to light the end of cigars on fire.

There had been blood. That had left a physical mark on the surface. Such a small amount had drenched the essence of the lighter. The one moment had given it worth. It gave it a definite mark within history, not allowing its existence to be without such a thought attached. There was a meaning to it. So many humans had wanted possession of it. They had bought the unknown lies in the shopkeeper’s truths, each replica pure of all blood except for the one of belief. There was even a scratch that pretended to be part of history on each fake. The weight of imagination was a tricky sprite playing at the humans’ mind. Only one of the lighters had any real weight, pulled down by history’s timely murder.

That is, of course, if such a lighter had existed.

The two lighters in the hotel room sat in complete silence. There was no fake history to weight them down while there were no humans in the room.

(This is a piece that reflects back upon the lighter that WM was trying to make a case with. As I still have trouble believing that there was an original lighter in the first place, I treated both lighters as fake. It contemplates how the lighter supposedly got meaning and how all of the replicas have meaning to the person who owns them.)