Lightning Bug--short story

 
  The lightning found the center of the old Oak in the yard, splitting it nearly in two. Twisted, charred pieces of timber fan out around it like a hula skirt, and smoke still rises from within. There is a deep black crater just visible from the house, lying where the roots once layed, and we run out to take a closer look.

     The surface of the tree is strangely both cool and hot to the touch. The rain has fallen unrelentingly since dawn and everything in sight is heavy with the moisture. The limbs sag forlornly, carrying fresh green leaves dripping fat drops of water on our heads. There's a noise coming from the depths of the blackened 0ak and we stop, suddenly aware it could fall. We listen intently, soft mews are coming from the woody remains, barely audible. It sounds like the cry of a small animal, but somehow human. Slowly we go forward and look into the splayed timber.

    Our breath catches and we gasp in wonder at the beautiful silver flower growing from the dark sooty mud in the oaks burnt embrace. It is untouched and undirtied. A perfect flower, unlike any we've ever seen. We shift a piece of wood and a ray of bright, after shower sunlight gleams down on the silver bud. It burst into bloom, petals peeling slowly open, and in the center, sitting perched in a bed of golden pollen, is a tiny silver girl. She stands and unfurls silver wings that flutter in the breeze. I bend down and peer, astounded, at the tiny figure. She stretches and yawns and I know what the mewing sound must have been. She turns and sees me. Her diminutive features transform into a mask of shock, than slowly impatience. She puts her small hands to her hips and looks into my eyes. "What? You've never seen the birth of a lightning bug before?"

She flaps her wings and hops from the flower, disappearing into a cloud of shining dust and tinkling laughter.

 Ramblin' Hoosier~