Word Count: 100
The Life of a Firefly
…
Quiet skies. A soft breeze. The underlying sweet-honey smell of an unknown flower wafting across your senses. Gentle sunlight bathing the ground.
Quiet granite before you, smooth, though rough around the edges, salty air taking its course.
You're quiet. A lifetime of regrets sitting still in your chest, comfortable at home where they belong.
You have seen the world, but it wasn't enough. Dreams are things of a distant era, and happiness, attainable only to an extent.
You've become used to being satisfied and not fulfilled.
If you were young…if you were young…
"I'm sorry I wasn't there with you."