[=#006400]
I awoke to a world written in rose and jet. I awoke to a world of fireflies.
Oh, fireflies. Oh, fireflies. Shimmering stars, brought down by the smell of purple flowers. As they glow, trying to find their perfect match, they bring out some strange things in me. First, there is the wild, giddy joy of them: they are like the sun. To see them is like standing in bright sunlight on a cold day. To see them is to be in love. And then they bring up memories, and I find myself full of old memories, aching with them. There was Payton, in the ruddy light, dancing with me cheek-to-cheek. There was a briefly-known friend who I met surrounded by fireflies. I am never quite as happy as when I am happy in the fireflies. I am never quite as lonely as I am alone in the fireflies.
I tried for a while to enjoy the fireflies on my own, but I just kept thinking about how quiet it seemed, how nice it would be if someone dear to me could enjoy this with me. I wished for Payton. I wished for Lemon, or Walter, or Scape, or Zerg, or anyone who could keep me company, glow with me like two matched fireflies. I went wandering to find someone: and here and there I thought there was hope, but they never lingered. I began to despair of finding someone to dance in the fireflies with me, and turn them from lonely wanderers into bright jewels. And then something -- fate or chance, destiny or dice or the Twin Gods -- smiled at me and said "done." I saw a doe, skipping among the purple flowers and fireflies. I rushed to join her.