Fireflies

Hannah took a sip of red wine.

‘Do you think this is going anywhere?’

‘What?’ Tom looked up from his meal. ‘Us?’

‘Yes.’

‘I … I thought we were getting on okay?’

‘But is okay enough?’

‘You want more?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know what to expect any more.’

‘You were hoping for fireworks?’

‘Maybe.’ Hannah shrugged.

‘They’re sparking all around us, but they’re fireflies rather than lightning bolts.’

‘You’re sure?’

‘This is what, our sixth date? I’m sixty three, and I’m too polite to ask your age, and I’m not sure of anything anymore. But I see fireflies.’



A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.