sputter of several dots of light emerged, fluttering around in random spirals.
Fireflies.
Florence’s breath caught and her hand tightened around mine. The sensation caused my whole body to jerk slightly and I frowned. I forgot we were still holding hands.
“They’re there. Fairies.” Her voice quivered slightly.
“They’re not fairies. They’re just bugs with lightbulbs on their butts,” I said.
“Tscht!” Florence slapped my shoulder with her free hand. “Shut up! Don’t ruin this for me.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Come on, you big sour jerk. Don’t crush them this time, there aren’t that many left.”
“Christ, that was like one time. Let it go.” The first time we’d gone firefly hunting as kids, I had crushed one in between my thumb and index finger to see where the light came from. The immediate screech and the subsequent flow of tears that had poured from Florence wasn’t something I wanted to experience again.
I followed Florence, allowing her to lead me slowly through the tall grass that gently swished about our knees. The blinking lights turned on and turned off, multiplying and fading. Soon we stood right by the tree, and in front of us, series of sparks went off all around the clearing.
Florence let go of my hand and crouched down, inching forward until she was just below the fireflies.
“They’re like stars. Like shooting stars,” she whispered.
They were. The fireflies flicked around, catching up with each other, in no hurry to arrive at any destination or do anything except to find their mate.
“Make a wish, Alistair,” Florence said, still looking up with wonder spread across her expression.
“You don’t make wishes on fireflies.”
Florence lowered her gaze to me. “Well, then, let’s pretend we caught a shooting star.”
“You just can’t make these things up,” I protested. “It doesn’t work like that. You just can’t be making wishes on random things just because you feel like it.”
Florence grinned at me. “Tonight, you can. Fairies can be anything.”
“These aren’t fairies,” I insisted, but my protestations were lost. She brushed them aside with a shake of her head and an exhale. Then, she slowly unraveled her body, standing up breath by breath until her head peeked up into the crowd of lights buzzing above us. The fireflies swam around her hair, illuminating her features.
I stared. Florence was ethereal. She inched her arms up until her hands were in the cloud of stars, gently cupping a firefly in between her hands, the light leaking from between her fingers. She gave me a secret smile and slowly lowered herself down again to bring her clasped hands before me.
The light of the fireflies fluttering above radiated off her skin and she glowed. She glowed like something unearthly, a forest nymph or something so beautiful, she couldn’t possibly be of this world. The shimmer colored her pale skin with glitter and shadows, her eyes swimming with joy and wonder.
My heart seized, enveloping itself in a moment so unfamiliar, yet filled with so much longing, all at the same time.
“I caught one.” she whispered, so close that her breath puffed against my skin, spreading its heat tenderly across my cheeks. A caress.
Goose bumps texturized my arms, and my fingers, palm pressed deep into the earth, clenched.
“Make a wish, Alistair,” she said, the movements of her lips enthralling me with their beautiful angles and curves.
Florence slid her eyelids closed, and inhaled deeply. She lifted her arms up and opened her palms. For a split second, a fear lingered in the air that the light had been extinguished, but then the freed firefly burst into a ray of yellow-white light, spiraling away.
And despite myself, I made my wish.
An honest wish, a wish that sprung from that indecipherable whisper that fluttered in my soul, circling and spiraling in haphazard paths.
I wish … that you will always be with me .
I wish we could always be together.
That no
Fireflies.
Florence’s breath caught and her hand tightened around mine. The sensation caused my whole body to jerk slightly and I frowned. I forgot we were still holding hands.
“They’re there. Fairies.” Her voice quivered slightly.
“They’re not fairies. They’re just bugs with lightbulbs on their butts,” I said.
“Tscht!” Florence slapped my shoulder with her free hand. “Shut up! Don’t ruin this for me.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Come on, you big sour jerk. Don’t crush them this time, there aren’t that many left.”
“Christ, that was like one time. Let it go.” The first time we’d gone firefly hunting as kids, I had crushed one in between my thumb and index finger to see where the light came from. The immediate screech and the subsequent flow of tears that had poured from Florence wasn’t something I wanted to experience again.
I followed Florence, allowing her to lead me slowly through the tall grass that gently swished about our knees. The blinking lights turned on and turned off, multiplying and fading. Soon we stood right by the tree, and in front of us, series of sparks went off all around the clearing.
Florence let go of my hand and crouched down, inching forward until she was just below the fireflies.
“They’re like stars. Like shooting stars,” she whispered.
They were. The fireflies flicked around, catching up with each other, in no hurry to arrive at any destination or do anything except to find their mate.
“Make a wish, Alistair,” Florence said, still looking up with wonder spread across her expression.
“You don’t make wishes on fireflies.”
Florence lowered her gaze to me. “Well, then, let’s pretend we caught a shooting star.”
“You just can’t make these things up,” I protested. “It doesn’t work like that. You just can’t be making wishes on random things just because you feel like it.”
Florence grinned at me. “Tonight, you can. Fairies can be anything.”
“These aren’t fairies,” I insisted, but my protestations were lost. She brushed them aside with a shake of her head and an exhale. Then, she slowly unraveled her body, standing up breath by breath until her head peeked up into the crowd of lights buzzing above us. The fireflies swam around her hair, illuminating her features.
I stared. Florence was ethereal. She inched her arms up until her hands were in the cloud of stars, gently cupping a firefly in between her hands, the light leaking from between her fingers. She gave me a secret smile and slowly lowered herself down again to bring her clasped hands before me.
The light of the fireflies fluttering above radiated off her skin and she glowed. She glowed like something unearthly, a forest nymph or something so beautiful, she couldn’t possibly be of this world. The shimmer colored her pale skin with glitter and shadows, her eyes swimming with joy and wonder.
My heart seized, enveloping itself in a moment so unfamiliar, yet filled with so much longing, all at the same time.
“I caught one.” she whispered, so close that her breath puffed against my skin, spreading its heat tenderly across my cheeks. A caress.
Goose bumps texturized my arms, and my fingers, palm pressed deep into the earth, clenched.
“Make a wish, Alistair,” she said, the movements of her lips enthralling me with their beautiful angles and curves.
Florence slid her eyelids closed, and inhaled deeply. She lifted her arms up and opened her palms. For a split second, a fear lingered in the air that the light had been extinguished, but then the freed firefly burst into a ray of yellow-white light, spiraling away.
And despite myself, I made my wish.
An honest wish, a wish that sprung from that indecipherable whisper that fluttered in my soul, circling and spiraling in haphazard paths.
I wish … that you will always be with me .
I wish we could always be together.
That no
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