Flashlight Tag on a summer night
It's 9pm and the light has just started to change color in the sky
You're 11 or 12, and on the cusp of something
You feel chancy tonight, emboldened by warmth and possibility
Maybe your Mom hasn't glanced out the window and noticed that the light has faded around the edges of the day
They'll be baths and bed times, the slavery of ritual, but now you're lost in a moment of freedom, festooned with the light of a thousand fireflies, set to the tune of the laughter of your friends
If only you knew now, what you did then