A good little story might be like that; it should, for a moment, light up a life like a firefly caught, fleetingly, in a jelly jar on a soft summer night.
There are holes in the lid, of course: we all need to breathe.
Holes in the lid. Light. The dwindling dusk of a summer night, perhaps in a small town in Ohio? A firefly and a little girl and two eager hands clutching the mason jar...a grandmother smiling on the porch, summer night clouds scudding across a deepening sky.
A short, sweet story to light up the night.
