The meditations on a firefly

“There were nights when the moon didn’t peek on the clouds and so the fireflies were in profusion. They would transform trees into dazzling display of cosmic lights as if Christmas decided to come early in our vast corner of the earth.”

By RYAN L. FAURA

It got hit by the whirled, propeller blade of the electric fan in my room. First, pinpricks of blinking lights, then, caught by the wind that sneaked its way on the hinges of the window, it fell down, like shooting stars do sometimes- fast and quick- it hissed, and the lights, greenish, went out, blinking lights no more. Continue reading “The meditations on a firefly”