Little Lantern sat at the edge of the square. Paper lanterns and string lights flickered all around. She kept her wick tucked low, pretending to admire a pebble.
Her shadow stretched long and thin behind her. It touched the hem of a dancing neighbor's skirt. Little Lantern stayed very still.
Mama Lantern drifted over and nudged Little Lantern's side with her warm light. "The festival needs every glow," she said softly.
The village bells began to ring. Little Lantern's wick flickered once, then twice.
Little Lantern lifted herself an inch off the cobblestones. But the dark shadows at the square's edge writhe and reach toward her.
She froze. Her flame sputtered, and a shadow tickled her glass wall.
Then she took one brave step forward. Her flame roared bright gold.
The shadows leaped back with surprised oof sounds and melted into harmless puddles of gray.
Little Lantern drifted into the square, leaving a trail of warm light behind her.
The other lanterns cheered. She danced in a slow circle, her glow painting the village in honey color.
Little Lantern's flame danced with the others. Her shadow was short and happy now.
The festival went on, and Little Lantern shone right in the middle.