Amber fading to rose and violet. Crickets humming off in the distance. The kind of Georgia night a big porch was made for. She heard the screen door slam as she rocked to the rhythm of the breeze and grown-tadpole chorus; Heard his footsteps shuffle around the house. As her love of forty-eight years eased closer she could feel the girl in her get excited. When his hand reached the back of her chair she breathed in the mid-summer heat and the still intoxicating essence of her husband. And as she let the smile tingle on her face he reached for her hand. Taking her into his arms for a slow dance among the fireflies - her home in the twilight and the strength of his embrace.
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