A boy captures fireflies, much to their dismay.
“I’ve caught some fireflies,” said Olc beaming. The lad admired a glass jar held in hand, eagerly awaiting the next glimmer from his captive insects.
“But Olc,” complained Maitheas. “you’ve forgotten to punch holes in the lid.”
“No I haven’t,” rebuffed Olc, shaking the jar with a cruelty that made Maitheas wince, for Olc shook it as if doing so was meant to hurt Maitheas. Olc’s smile withered.
“But Olc, there are no holes. The poor creatures will suffocate.”
Olc moved the jar closer to his face. The boy’s glower transformed into a grotesque mask as Maitheas peered at him through the imperfect glass. He shuddered, musing whether the jar was distorting Olc’s face or was allowing him to see through to the boy’s very soul— see him for what he was.”
Olc lowered the jar and looked into Maitheas’ eyes, perhaps into his soul before offering a reply. He said simply, “I know.”