I can't imagine being in these woods a few hundred years ago, all that's between you and complete blackness being a burning torch - a stick and rag. No wonder they feared the dark so much, isn't your imagination always so much worse when you can't see? I guess they knew how long those torches would last but I like my heavy flashlight with a fully recharged battery. I like pressing a button and feeling that reassuring clunk under my thumb as the beam powers into the night. Light is still light, but give me a solid pure beam to cut right through the darkness into the trees beyond, not just my toes, and I'm a happier girl.
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