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The woods were alive with fireflies, an infinite sea of glowing orbs ebbing from the shelter of the forest and pooling around and on the house itself. It was an impossible scene, more impossible still as the old man seemed to be covered entirely in chain… heavy, rusted links covered with glistening blood, blood dripping with malevolent release and falling not to the ground but up into the sky. His head was down, his pace steady, and as he grew near she could just make out parts of his face, then only the faintest sliver of the old man’s eyes. There was no mistaking his direction, either: he was walking right toward her – no deviation, no hesitation. Fireflies settled on her now, and on the boys, only they weren’t flies. They were – light. Only light. She looked down at Lev and saw orbs floating in front of his eyes, saw the reflected light of millions of orbs dancing on the glassy surface of his eyes, and she saw the smile on his face, in his soul, and she relaxed. The sound the. My wife and the girls know that there is a fire in the backyard - it's a bonfire at least 6' high. They ignore it and continue whatever it is they are talking about. More beers, wine, and other shots flow, and still we are missing the 4 girls. In my mind - this is great - my wife is mentally engaged and is interested again.The girls finally show up to the fire, mention how the chiminea is glowing red, and two of the girls say their goodbys to the group. As they go around my wife comes up to me, hugs me, and kisses me. I kiss her back and told her she's beautiful. The girls leave, the chit-chat resumes, and my wife lets me know that she's going potty as she does the 'potty dance' jokingly. That leaves the new liberal-smelly girl as the sole envoy of their group. She didn't say much, but you can tell she had fun - or she was plotting.She found the time to go into the house for what I presumed was more wine as there was barely a gulp left in her glass. I continued my fire duties and.
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