Firefly Dances

   Tonight, I danced with fireflies. I ran around in aimless circles, dancing with them and watching them blink. I was floating, it seemed, on a cloud of flashing beads of light, gliding through the crisp midnight air. They whisked me away on a five minute fairytale.

   The night sky above me was a cloudy midnight blue, with scattered twinkling lights all around, shining down into a spotlight just for me. The Big Dipper was positioned right above the crown of my head, partially covered by a cottony cloud. The cloud, darkened by the loss of the sun but illuminated by the presence of the moon, contrasted the soft color of the sky with a light indigo blue. The grass, damp beneath my feet, was nearly black. The trees created black silhouettes around me, creating a shield for me from the outside dangers.

   The night was completely silent except for the distant chirps of the crickets and my soft breathing, the quiet stillness of the night sounds only added to the nighttime enchantment. The air around me smelled of freshly cut grass and a late summer rain. My skin was at a comfortable state, slightly moist in the humid night.

   The trees blocked the road of others from me, letting me see my own way for even just a few minutes. In my short-lived fairytale, I finally saw what writers see in the night. I saw the magic floating around, penetrating every last pore of me and my surroundings, making everything beautiful.

   I was living in a real-life fairytale, one where there were no hardships, no worries of the future or regrets from the past. There were only the present, endless possibilities, and my newly reformed hope. For the first time in a long while, I started to believe in dreaming again.

by BROOKEworm