Sienna Blake walked through the busy coastal town. The harbor bells rang. Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
The seagulls cried and the waves crashed. She covered her ears and stomped her foot. 'Too loud,' she said.
Sienna Blake tried the library. Pages turn. Flip. Flip. Too many whispers.
She tried the bakery. Dough gets kneaded. Thump. Thump. Too much clatter. Her shoulders were tight.
Sienna Blake found a small garden behind her house. She sat on the wooden bench. She waited.
A leaf fell. Rustle. Then a breeze came. Rustle, rustle. Still nothing peaceful.
Suddenly — blink. A tiny yellow light floated past her nose. Blink-blink. Two more followed.
Then three more, then a whole swarm! Fireflies! They swirled around her head like dancing stars.
Sienna Blake reached out one finger. One firefly landed on it and glowed warm.
Sienna Blake sat very still. The fireflies blinked around her — blink, blink, blink — in a slow, gentle rhythm.
She uncovered her ears. The garden felt soft and quiet now. She watched them dance.
She watched them dance until the last light faded.