LLLLight
How do we begin?
“Ight, ight!” the infant cooed
A determined glow rushed into his mother’s face
Sprouting color like two roses blossoming
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Mother would not give up.
For she had created something extraordinary.
She knew it in the way he saw right through the heart of her
Piercing past her skull to an orange halo which glowed behind her fraying hair.
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“Ight! Ight!” he cried again.
His tiny fingertips stretched across the room,
The length of six babies lying cross-wise,
and caught a lantern swinging.
-
The shadows of his carriage swayed nervously upon the nursery walls
As his torch began to tremble.
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“LLLLight”
His mama whispered.
“LLLLight.”
-
He noticed, then, the way his mama’s brows crinkled together
And how her eyes seemed to sweat.
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“Mama,” he told her.
An angel knocked inside her chest.
“LLLLight,” he repeated
-
And she fell to her knees
Kissed his cheeks through the wet of her tears.
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“That’s right,” she sobbed, “LLLLight.”
-
She gently released the glowing thing from her son's sturdy grip
And held him to her chest
Through his very first words, he had created the world.
About the Creator
Lindsay Shiner Packard
As an actress, songwriter, and human being, I am drawn to finding kernels of truth about who we are and what drives us. There are glimmering messages hidden beneath ordinary moments, and I seek to uncover them, no matter how small.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
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Comments (6)
Congratulations on your win!! This one was so unique, I loved it!
Wooohooooo congratulations on your win! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
This is exquisite. Congratulations!!
This is amazing! Congrats on your runner up placement!
I’ll admit—I struggled to understand LLLLight at first. But I took the time. I sat with the imagery, the trembling torch, the whisper of “LLLLight,” and something began to unfold. Maybe I got it right, maybe I didn’t—but here’s what I see: The baby isn’t just saying “light”—he’s becoming it. His surreal reach, his unburned fingers, his final utterance—they all feel like a transformation. He’s not learning language; he’s leaving something behind. And the mother, who created him, becomes the one who sees what he’s turning into. Her brows crinkle, her eyes sweat—not from confusion, but from grief. He sees a glow behind her head—something normally unseen—and though she can’t see it herself, she seems to understand what he’s perceiving. She becomes aware of his experience, even if she can’t fully grasp it. When she releases the glowing object—maybe the lantern—she’s not just letting go of a thing. She’s letting go of him. Holding him close, she repeats his word, not to teach it, but to honor it. Through his first words, he didn’t just name the world. He became part of it in a new way. Thank you for writing something that invited me to wrestle with it, to feel it, and to find my own meaning inside it.
Love this.