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Meira
Pentermann
Firefly Beach
Excerpt
In a
clearing, somewhere between the edge of the forest and a jagged cliff,
a lone
firefly danced in graceful circles. It was beautiful, stealing
attention away
from the moonlight shimmering on Penobscot Bay. For a brief moment, the
captivating creature was more hypnotic than the wispy clouds that
brushed the
face of the moon.
There was
something highly unusual about that firefly. Beth couldn’t
quite put her finger
on it. She had only seen fireflies once before, when she went camping
with the
Girl Scouts. She vaguely recalled their random flashing in the woods
and how
magical they seemed to her as a ten-year-old. She remembered dozens of
fireflies, blinking
sporadically, flittering about as
if they were at a cocktail party, all vying for center stage, and all
talking
at once.
She
looked out at the peculiar glowing insect and realized that there was definitely
something different about that firefly.
It
did not blink. . . and it was all alone. |
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