Zlaw’s Echo

Blessed be the firefly, holiest of all the bugs. It is to the night what the butterfly is to the day, and more. It is a bringer of light and colour even in the darkest places. And its aerial dance is a ballet quite unique among insects. It easily rivals the stars in the sky, effortlessly taking over for them when the clouds shield them from view. As he laid on his back, dying, in that clearing, that was what he was choosing to focus on: the poetry of the fireflies buzzing above him. He had managed to crawl here from where he had been struck down, in a desperate attempt to seek help, but the increasing pain and dizziness had made it pretty clear he was not going to get it in time to be saved. So, accepting his fate, he had rolled over in the damp grass, and started to stare up at the night sky, to pass the time until his demise. He did not want to die face down in the dirt. It was not like anybody was ever going to find him, so it was not about avoiding any level of humiliation; he k...