Fireflies. The first of the year. Firelight. Dancing. Cosies. Good conversation. Throw your head back laughter. Joy. Yes, joy. Even in the rain. That later starts with its slow pitter patter. All night long. Waking me with the tossing of waves. The wind against my skin. 20 feet away with walls, all of this goes by unnoticed. Every. Last. Bit. Even when you want it. Welcome it. But when the walls are erased. The whir of air gone. This. This is left. And, what else is there that matters, that makes a life, that is the very essence of life itself. This.
