The cicadas screech twisted melodies and the crickets chirp a crooked harmony. Two people sit in a field, pulling wildflowers between their fingers. Despite the summer heat, everything feels black and cold, just like the night sky so far above them, just like the dark chocolate melting on their tongues.
The only thing that lights up their small world are fiery sparklers. They are hot to the touch, and they shine brighter than any star above them. Damn the stars, after all. They're too far away.
The sparklers are his idea. The chocolate is hers.
"Is it weird that I can't feel anything?" she mumbles as she places another chocolate on her tongue.
"What do you mean?" He reaches for the box of sparklers.
"I feel numb all the time. And if I'm not numb, I feel like crying."
"Really?" he says.
"Really."
She's cryptic and sad all the time. She hates the world and the world hates her back.
He tries to be honest and happy all the time. He loves the world and the world does not love him back.
Both of them love each other. Both of them are afraid to admit it.
He lights up a sparkler. "If it makes you feel any better, you light up my world," he says as he hands it to her. He stares at her, hoping to see a trace of a smile.
She accepts it and stares deep into the glowing sparks. How he aches to see her smile.
She frowns. "You're so cliche."
He feels like crying.
The sparkler looks like a dandelion. He thinks this as he twirls it absentmindedly in his fingers. He pretends to blow and makes a wish.
Please let her be happy.
"Are you writing something with the sparkler?" he asks.
"Yes." she says. She does not look at him. Instead, she looks at the sparkler and the trail it leaves.
He tries again to catch her attention. "What is it?"
"Chinese. I figure I should put all those high school language classes to good use." She still does not look at him.
"Aw c'mon. You gotta give me more clues than that," he smiles.
"The word is a childhood emotion."
"Hmmm...happy?
"Nope."
"Sad?"
"Nope."
"Nostalgic?"
"Nope."
She finally looks at him, and she stares deep into his glowing eyes. She fears that his eyes are glowing because of her. She fears that his eyes are glowing for her. But most of all, she fears that her own eyes might not be glowing for him.
"I give up," he finally says. "Tell me, what is it?"
"Hòu huǐ."
"Ho hey?"
"Close enough."
"So what's it mean?"
"...
regret."
