Camping

Little green glowing worms.

Imagine.

Hidden away in the rocks near a waterfall.

I watched them in awe before my dad carried me back to our camp in the dark. We toasted marshmallows on sticks and roasted eel, but I only wanted the marshmallows back then. Looking into the depths of the forest, my mind began to play, afraid of what could be lurking there. My bogey man had a hooked nose and mean little eyes, shoes with big heels (that way you could hear them clicking as he came for you), a striped purple jacket and top hat; but I sat near the lantern and I was safe. My brother stayed up with the men and they sent me to bed, angry for lack of sufficient marshmallows. I lay alone in the darkness, but if I rolled over on one side I could see the flames flickering against the wall of the tent, dancing, for me. The anger boiled away and my firelight, warm and safe, sent me to sleep.