A Flickering Pact

The shadows stretch long out here, but darkness is merely an invitation. I stepped past the edge of the weathered porch and made my way toward the tangled roots of an old cypress tree. Right beside a damp patch of moss, a lone firefly was blinking its pale greenish beacon against the bark. I raised my lantern up high, greeting its tiny flicker with the quiet brass rim in my grip. For a long moment, neither of us dared to break the stillness. It danced once around the brim of my hat before vanishing into the Spanish moss, leaving me to watch over the night.