fireflies

The fireflies were glowing beautifully, like wisps of snow. The green was all around. It was strange. One of the busiest cities in the world. He could see the last avenue. This one was quiet. At least here it was. Further downtown, it was a mess. A quagmire of people and cars. Jumbled. Honking, chattering. Noisy. Nothing but sound and traffic. Stuck in a loop. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. But here… that Avenue was quiet and peaceful. Old money lived here. An avenue away, he knew, was bustling. He could hear the sound drifting off from there to here. Less intense. Nicer. As if he were removed. Which he was, in a way. Which he literally would also be soon. The fireflies were glowing beautifully, like wisps of snow. The smell of dusk was in the air. The sky was colored a musky, burnt orange. He could feel them glowing past his ear. He would bring her here. His heart leapt with joy at the thought of her. It would be a nice little evening. The dog pranced around, galloping into little coves and bushes. Fireflies took flight, higher and higher, glowing and blinking as she approached them. She was confused at first. Then she realized they were smaller than her. And so she charged, full steam ahead. People didn’t mind dogs being off leash at this time. As it was, there weren’t too many around. People here didn’t care too much what you did. Even if they did, they were polite enough not to say anything. To his right, he could see the sparkling river, a beautiful blue surface that belied the dirt and waste that lay underneath. This river that flowed straight into the ocean. A long garbage ship was slowly drifting along. A yacht was loudly speeding along. Music blaring from it. A few people, small like ants, stumbling along the boat, he imagined they slurred their words as they shouted.

The dog came back, to check on him, he tapped his chest, she jumped up to give him a hug. Tail wagging slowly as he hugged her. He opened his eyes as she jumped away, and sniffed around, erratic, and in zig zags. There was so much to see, so much to smell. She was a consumer of stories. Just like humans were storytellers and listeners of them. Every sniff told her something about the animals that had passed by, their gender, their maturity status, sometimes even their weight and health. Every time her ears perked, they told her something about things far away as well as things close by. Licking things, though he encouraged her to refrain from that, passed their information to her. He wished he could be as excited and joyous about life as she was. As it was, his quest had ended. He might regret it later. But it was time to go home. They reached the end of the park, she kept walking towards the path by the river. He sighed and smiled as he followed her. She was too far. He took a deep breath, climbed onto the railing, and jumped. It was cold. That was the last thing he-