All posts tagged: firefly

It Was a Firefly

The opening of the novel The Synchrony Tree.   IT WAS A FIREFLY — dropped onto the palm of her left hand, her fingers curling at once into a warm cage of flesh. It was not a firefly. It was a tear, fallen lightly, and perched moistly in the center of the palm of her left hand. It was not a tear. It was a demand;  a demand of a promise of a Return, dropped like a warm sea pebble into the salty moist cage of her fingers. It was not a demand.  It was anticipation of a Return, a small light flashing with little shrieks of joy, warming the already warm cage the fingers of her hand made. It was in her mind now, as she skirted snow dunes at two in the morning, shivering in her gray thrift-shop overcoat, black rubber galoshes crunching ice crystals underfoot.  She was in departure, in flight actually, and that was why Return was in her mind, the heat of it, this arctic morning before dawn. She wished she were …