I found a little glowbug, and put her in a jar. I watch her through the glass and see how bright she can make herself; how dull she can be, too.
Sometimes I like to shake the jar, so she’ll dance her twitchy, confused little dance for me. Oh, how she bounces and skitters and soars and falls! I think she likes it when I move her.
But I know things are different, for the glowbug and me. The glass distorts her vision, and at her scale, I seem so much more than I am. I fill the horizon. I control the air. I have lived forever. But the biggest difference?
Every day, I wake up knowing I can squish her.
I hope she does her best to shine.
I really do.