“He looked at these prayer candles quite indifferently, and feeling an impulse to shape his lips into an ‘O’ and release some air, Andrei blew the entire table out. Once he’d finished, large clouds of slow smoke spiraled into the dark air, for a moment appearing like fossils, and then rose into oblivion. But oblivion was not beautiful. It met him with dread. Andrei could hear the whispers of desperate folks who lighted their single candle to pray for relief. He heard screams for help, answers begged for, and pleas for private miracles. He’d slaughtered every single prayer. “Where do their lights all go—now that I’ve done that?” asked the panicked boy.”
Book:A Happy Ghost