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Tiny Lights Under A Tree
I saw fireflies for the first time today. I was walking with a group, tired eyes drooping every few seconds, when a speck of light burst to life in front of me. Someone whooped, “firefly!”; we walked on to the thicket next to the stairs, and no sooner had we gotten there than ten fireflies lit up at once. Drips of flame hung in the humid air, and all I could think was that I hadn’t expected them to be quite so yellow. A few more fireflies flew above the rest, and following them, my eyes caught on the sunset. The orange sun, just shades darker than the fireflies flitting around us, was bracketed by streaks of pink and blue, and blooming at the edges of my vision was more green than I’d ever lived near before. Looking at the heavenly canvas painted just outside my windows, I drew my blinds, and slept that night dreaming of fireflies dancing in front of the dusty sun.
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Sarina G. is a short form writer from Palo Alto, California. She enjoys writing prose poetry and flash fiction centered around mental health and experiences from her life. This piece is a micro-essay inspired by the first time she ever saw a firefly.