It’s been a while so I figured I may as well drop a little content here. I posted it a few days ago on Facebook, but I think it deserves a place here because, well, it just does.
She put on her finest outfit. The one that always drew his attention. Patiently, she waited. Seeing him across the way, she began her dance.
He knew she would be there and dashed as fast as he could, throwing caution to the wind. Tonight would be the night. There she was, beautiful. He watched her move. He’d waited his whole life for this moment.
He was right there. Surely he could see her. Slowly, carefully she danced in his direction, but he came no closer.
He was ensnared. He tried to signal her but he was unable to approach. He’d been caught by something and couldn’t escape but he had to let her know how he felt. Desperately, he signaled while being wound ever more tightly.
Drawing closer, she began to realize something was terribly wrong. He was singing their song, but he’d stopped moving. She must have gotten to him. Hope dimmed and slowed.
He flashed his last as the femme fatale had her way with him.
Thus ends the front yard firefly romance foiled by an orb weaver.