Lampyridae Quietus

Dark poetic prose.

Flaxen luminescence sprinkles across the night sky. A subtle pinprick of timid lights instantly flitters, but upon your attempted touch it withdraws.

Standing in the grassy plain at half-light with only the small bulbs of buzzing illuminating your path.

One, two, three, four — you count as the scintillating Lampyridae manifest a spectacle in your honor.

Distracted by the array of visible siren calls, the edge of the cliff side betrays you.

One, two, three, four — you count the seconds before the inevitable. The buzzing doesn’t cease, the lights remain the same.

Except now the glimpse of a carmine paint on the rocks is illuminated — showing what you left behind.

Prompt by Casey Lawrence at Promptly Written “Moody Monday — Fireflies at Twilight”