It was my birthday, it was time to blow the candles out, but one of the candles stayed lit. I huffed and puffed, until I had no air left, but the flame was still there. Even if I smothered it with two fingers moistened in spit, again it sprang up just as soon as I let go. So we remained seated, still wearing our small, colorful, paper hats, silently staring at the single candle while it burned down on its own.