Evening time was the best Tomatoes were ripe and ready For plucking Steam them and squash them Put them into Jars Don’t let the Children know That inside each jar is also A bit of kindness, a dash of smile A handful of love and…

As evening turns to night, the fireflies come out to play, as do children, their mason jars in hand.   But in my distopian world, firefly-hunting kids are a mystery, because it’s the children that glow in Steampunkland. (Prompt: Choose 5 words.)