Fireflies

Everywhere we looked were fireflies. She passed by me and I had to glance at her hair as it shined. I always thought the night sky brought out the best in her. She held out her hand. I took it of course, scared that she might change her mind. She smiled the most beautiful smile. We ran through the field as if gliding. And when we stopped, we laid down on the moist grass and gazed at the star-filled sky. I turned to face her and then— I woke up. The accident was two months ago. I am all alone.

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About Basil

Grey is the new blue, or so I think it is. View all posts by Basil

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