Neon Insect

It was pitch black in my room, and quiet too. The only tone echoed through the surrounding was the sound of crickets chirping lullaby under the bushes outside the house; rubbing the edge of their wings onto each other, much like a fiddler with their strings and bow.

I was half asleep when I spotted flashing glimpse of light at the ceiling. Feeling disturbed, I opened up my semi-closed eyes. It was a firefly, flashing on and off like the neon light of the night club at the city, a beautiful view. Even in the city, it’s so rare to find these insect. City folks have to drive miles and miles to a specific place that has the word ‘fireflies’ carved on its name. I was lucky; this lightning bug willingly came straight into my property.

That night, in my bed, I fancied its glowing exhibition. If the ceiling is the sky, then this firefly is the star. If the ceiling is a stage, then this firefly is a rockstar. I was like its dying fan; a complete nobody who stands anywhere below the stage among its massive crowd. Oh, sometime I wish I could be like this firefly. The natural plugged-in bulb on its butt is like a good music; it catches everyone’s attention, it makes girls screaming, it turns people in love, it feels my disease. Then it was decided. For fame and fortune, I want to be a rockstar!

A few minutes later, my dream cloud collapsed when I saw the firefly was cut in two as it flew near the ceiling fan. It was tragic. I didn’t know where upper half is but I could see clearly the spark of the bottom half slowly fading and exploded, BOOMM!

Pity him, selling out bug.