A Beacon in the Dark

I noticed an old metal kerosene lantern someone had left sitting on the edge of the dock, unlit and gathering dew. With a quiet sigh, I leaned my weight against the cold iron base and peeked inside the glass globe. Right there on the wick sat a sluggish firefly, glowing faintly in the dim night. I rested my chin against the curved glass, watching its gentle, rhythmic yellow pulse light up my green felt hands. It didn't warm the cold dock planks, but... well, it kept the dark from feeling quite so vast.