Left with One Firefly- 適合中高級的英語短篇故事

The jar’s perforated lid lay face-down on the warm porch stone, leaving a pale ring of dust where metal once covered glass. Lucia crouched to retrieve it, the cool rim pressing against her fingertips as she twisted it free of grit. Soft amber light from the porch bulb formed a generous triangle across the first stepping stones. A grey cat lounged within that glow, tail twitching. Beyond the stones, pale sparks of fireflies drifted like slow beads in water, still easy to count. Honey from the jasmine bush drifted across, blending with the cut-grass scent. Her father stood behind the screen door, half hidden, sorting spades and shears inside a faded canvas apron. Metal pieces clinked in an even rhythm that matched the crickets outside. Lucia had promised herself three glowing specks before night thickened. The empty jar balanced in her left hand felt perfectly sized for that plan.

She stepped from warm stone to cool grass, muscles tensing as dew slicked the arches of her bare feet. The cat padded after her until the edge of the flower bed, then paused, ears forward. Lucia raised the lid and waited as a nearby firefly pulsed. Its brief light showed a young sapling beside the fence, its narrow trunk already bending under the breeze. A second, brighter insect floated toward the porch, tempted by the lamp, while moths circled the same bulb. The interval between flashes stretched. Dusk had eaten most of the garden’s outlines, and what had looked like a generous swarm now thinned to scattered dots. She eased the jar beneath the first insect and guided it inside with a gentle tap. She closed the lid, breath short with effort.

By the time she reached the lawn centre, only faint glimmers blinked near the old lemonade kiosk they built in spring. Grass underfoot chilled through fabric, and her earlier aim of three captures felt large against the growing dark. She exhaled a relieved breath, adjusted her goal, and turned back after deciding the single glow was enough. The cat trotted ahead, weaving along the stepping stones as though marking them for her slower steps. On the porch, the jar’s lone tenant flashed inside its glass room, light bouncing off the metal lid in steady rhythm. Lucia set the jar beside the screen door, moisture beading on its surface while crickets kept their rolling song.

玻璃罐的打孔金屬蓋倒扣在溫熱的門廊石上，金屬曾覆蓋處留下了一圈淡淡的灰塵。露西亞蹲下拾起蓋子，冰涼的邊緣抵住指尖，她輕扭幾下才把蓋子從砂粒中解脫。門廊燈投下的柔和琥珀光在第一塊踏石上形成寬闊的三角亮帶。一隻灰貓懶洋洋地躺在那道光裡，尾巴輕晃。踏石之外，淡綠火點像慢慢漂浮的珠子，尚易數清。籬笆旁茉莉花飄來蜜香，與割草後的青草味交織。她的父親半藏在紗門後，穿著舊帆布圍裙整理鏟子與剪刀；金屬碰撞的節奏與蟋蟀聲相呼應。夜色加深前，露西亞給自己定下抓三隻螢火蟲的小目標。左手托著空罐，大小剛好。

她從溫熱石面踩向涼草，露腳弓被露水抹得發滑，肌肉微繃。灰貓跟到花圃邊停下，豎耳觀望。她舉起蓋子等待，鄰近的一隻螢火蟲閃光瞬間，照出籬笆旁一株在風中彎曲的小樹苗。另一隻更亮的蟲子朝燈光漂去，同時飛蛾也圍著燈打轉。閃光間隔被拉長；花園輪廓被暮色吞噬，剛才看似豐富的蟲群稀成零星亮點。她把罐口送到第一隻螢火蟲下方，輕輕一拍讓牠滑入，再旋上蓋子，呼吸略急。

她走到草坪中央時，只剩零星微光在春天搭的舊檸檬攤旁閃爍。濕草透過布料沁涼，她原先抓三隻的目標在漸深的黑暗中顯得過大。她長吐一口帶釋然的氣，調整目標，決定擁有一隻就好並轉身返程。灰貓領先小跑，彎身穿過踏石，像為她較慢的腳步標記路徑。回到門廊後，唯一的亮點在玻璃房間裡閃爍，光線在金屬蓋上來回跳動。露西亞把罐子放在紗門旁，水珠在罐壁凝聚，蟋蟀的連綿樂聲仍在夜色中起伏。