The Light of the Fireflies

by Paul Pen

Sometimes I thought of them as suicide victims, glass bodies hanged and swinging from a cable.

A door loses its meaning if you don’t ever go through it. It becomes a wall.

There’s no creature more amazing than one that can make its own light.

There’s no creature more amazing than one that can make its own light.

I observed the two bits of important things in my life that had broken. Something much more important had broken inside me.

Because I know the light will always belong to people like him. And those unwilling to look beyond their own little world will be left in the dark.