Story Stew #2 Grandmothers Brew

Clasping a lightning bug in my hand.
I asked my grandmother for a can.
“Whatever for?” She asked me kind.
“So I can keep it, so that it is mine.”
She chuckled a bit and nodded her head.
Denying me, my simple gift.
Sadly I looked away to the ground.
“The thing about firefly’s.” She told me aloud
“Is that they are flying, flying to the stars.”
I looked at her confused and then up to the sky.
“Is that what is up there? Firefly’s?”
“They light up our world on these moonless nights. twinkling until mornings light.”
So I lifted my hands and opened them up.
The firefly flew and I simply watched.
Filled with the magic of my grandmothers brew.



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