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The Dance of the Mayflies

Microfiction on Resolution

By Michelle Liew Tsui-LinPublished 8 months ago β€’ Updated 8 months ago β€’ 2 min read
The Dance of the Mayflies
Photo by Akin Cakiner on Unsplash

This is for Mikeydred's May prompt.

Leave--with your heart as one. Michelle Liew

Did she?

πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°

Mayville appeared in all its fading glory each June, on the night the mayflies hatched--shimmering, ethereal, almost fading.

One couldn't find it on any map--but it didn't need to be. Mayville came, whether you liked it to, or not.

The veil over the town lifted each June. just once.

Then, it would fade into the dust, never to be seen for the rest of the year.

That June, Cara returned to the town, guided by a trail of flickering Mayflies. Her deceased grandmother intoned its name gently in her ears--Mayville.

It was the clock tower, erect. imposing, in the town square. Or at least a photograph of it. Her. standing in front of it. staring.

At an empty space.

The tower shimmered within a cloud. its clock ticking, Loudly. A sound only of the mind. She had stumbled upon it, led by the knowing glow of the Mayflies that had formed a glowing map across the highway. They hovered around her as the town beamed into life.

The sky turned a queer silver at midnight. Pale yellow stars emerged. tiny, blinking. watching.

Mayville began to dissolve. the walls of each home melting like wax candles. The glowing Mayflies rose. their combined glow a frantic shimmer a they encircled her.

Cara found herself at the clock tower again, but it was--different. The pale stones bore a name--hers.

The townsfolk's voices rose in an echoing whisper: "You've come home."

πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°

Cara didn't stay in Mayville-she couldn't. But she had left the town, and its people. Cara didn't stay in Mayville-she couldn't. But she had left the town, and its people. vacant.

Her grandmother still planted its name gently in her ears-- Mayville.

The pale stars didn't just shine--they yearned.

For her.

Mayville couldn't be kept--it was the keeper.

And as she stared at the sign at the fork in the road. she knew.

And could only know--after she'd left.

That she hadn't escaped Mayville--she had been entrusted.

The pale stars didn't just shine--they yearned.

For her.

πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°

πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°πŸͺ°

Original story by Michelle Liew. A tags are coincidental.

Microfiction

About the Creator

Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin

Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.

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Comments (4)

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  • Mother Combs8 months ago

    That's one great ending, Michelle

  • Jacky Kapadia8 months ago

    What an extraordinary contribution! This story elevates the entire challenge with its [specific quality: emotional depth/clever structure/unexpected twists]. Grateful you shared your brilliance with us!

  • Oh wow, I especially loved that ending!

  • This is a beautiful story and thank you again for your taking part in the challenge

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