Once, On Earth
Young Madeline
The summer air clung to my skin like honey; it was thick with the scent of honeysuckle and rain-damp grass. The fireflies drifted through the twilight like tiny stars that had lost their way from the sky above. I chased them barefoot through the garden, my laughter catching in the breeze and twining with the hum of something deep beneath my ribs. A kind of brightness. A fluttering thing.
I didn’t know what it was at the time. Only that it always came alive when I was happy. Or when I was scared. Or when I touched something living for too long.
Tonight, it felt calm. Gentle. It was like singing with the fireflies.
I tipped my head back toward the sky, where the first stars had started to blink through the velvet dusk. A breath caught in my throat, soft an
