Hour 9; Prompt 9: The Terror of Bottled Lightning

Firefly’s scared me when I was a kid
Unless they were in a bottle
I could mask my fear then, but barely
Blood flowed like that second bowl, still
My heart a zooming pace car

I would suddenly feel lethargic
And my legs trembled like a treeline awaiting the saw
The heat of dread washed over my face
My cousin looking at me strange
“You okay, cuz?”
That jar was the cottage
That firefly
A bear

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