“We are all worms, but I do believe I am a glowworm”
–Dozens of stars overhead… Could we ever dream of seeing them all in the city?!
-It was definitely a brilliant idea to get away from the campus for those two days.
-Yeah, at last we sneaked out of all that noisy vanity. That’s so tiring… Always pretending to be what you’re supposed to be…
-Escape, a sweet escape…
The midsummer breeze put a soft close-mouth kiss on their lips, making them both keep silence, unable to break the whole perfection of this sheer sunset with the profanity of human voices. Twilight darkness made its way quietly towards them, gently covering their eyes with the dusty veil of midsummer dusk.
Eventually, the wind –the anticipated herald of midsummer night freshness, lazily drove itself to the venue of this magic rendezvous, playfully whistling His merry motive. Then His whistling gradually grew into a constant blowing of an invisible horn and eventually resembled the whimpering of a melancholic saxophone. Neither could the tree stay unaffected. In no time and with insignificant efforts the wind involved Her crones into His harmonious orchestra.
Here, far from the big city lights and big city problems, found a safe refuge those two kindred spirits, that were idly and greedily recharging the vivifying fluids of their souls under the bushy crone of this ancient oak tree.
Bit by bit, the symphony got harsher and harsher around there; as if an unseen conductor had driven the orchestrates to selflessness, excavating and bringing up the most sacred and unconscious nuances of their essence.
Reminiscence… Rebirth… Resurrection
Next comes the Water part. Conducting batons finally let Her undertake the irreplaceable role in the natural symphony. But She can’t exist and create, if separated from Her eternal rival- the Fire. Hot-and-dry Him Versus Cold-and-wet Her. But She knows how dangerous it is to play with fire, at least, if barehanded. In order to regain Her ever-lasting inspiration and vital power from the Fire and not to get hurt dealing with Him, the Water just plays a small trick- so womanly, so wisely, so old as the world. She encloses those huge fire balls- the stars in the sky- into Herself. She reproduces Him within her body, She contains His reflection, She absorbs all His movements, His glitter and His very breath. Virtually, She tames the Fire somewhere at virtual level, without even the necessity of taming Him in the banal Newtonian reality. It’s just enough for Her to carry His seeming, intangible presence within Herself. This helps Her flow again, reborn as a raindrop and recollect Herself again in a continuous circulation in order to be able to reflect His distant glitter in Her faithful eyes.
At last, all of the classical elements of the quartette reunited. Some human creatures do think this quartette of 4 classical elements comprises the Life itself. They don’t even know that each of the participants of the life-giving quartette has its own life, its own joys and sorrows. However, none of them four can do without one another. A word dropped from a song makes it all wrong.
If not for the lazy Gust, the Trees would never find enough motivation to rustle; if not for the distant Fire ball up in the sky, the Lake would never have any desire to reflect anything at all. If not for the strongly blowing wind at this very moment, those meek and timid ripples on the water would never dare to suddenly go wild.
But they did. They made the calm Lake strive to the peak, feeling a desperate need of splashing out the implicit excitement that overflowed Her from the bottom to the top.
The lake is overflowed… Sounds weird?! So She is… She is overflowed with deep senses, overwhelming emotions, with a genuinely childish restlessness and a bitterly mature sensation of irreversibility. And when the Water is about to take it no longer, when She can’t suppress the inner confrontation between ‘her and her’, She overflows.
-Oh, Johnny, dear. How I wish we could stay here forever… In this absolute harmony, this incredible compatibility of our souls… Sometimes I think I made it all up. Maybe there is no lake overlooking us, no sparkle of the stars in its ripples, no bushy tree overhead, no wind and no magic whimper of saxophone. Maybe… even maybe there is no you. Is it possible that You exist in this cruel world? And maybe… neither is there any Me…
Johnny mildly smiled in reply with his brilliant black-pearl eyes, shining bright in the Midnight.
Midnight… Midnight anxiety…
It’s right when you feel the utmost unity with the providence and the least connection with the people around you. In order to recharge, you take a nice and breathtaking journey through the wonderfully designed mazes of the universe.
But his eyes, just as if two genuinely blue precious pearls, filled with so much sympathy and care. It can’t be all made up. It can’t be a mere dream.
His gentle tenor harmoniously interrupted the midnight symphony:
-Such a strange sensation. It takes over me like an injection. I just felt the same, Christie. Maybe it’s true… Maybe I just invented you… Maybe you are just a fiction, a nice refuge from the sore reality. But maybe this is the reality…
Their eyes met in such an exquisite and all-comprehending exultancy. The rebirth of their worn-off souls, the interpenetration of all the inner excitement that overflowed them for such a long… Far from the civilization, far from big city lights…
Fascinating… Fantastic… Fabulous…Fairy-tale Fancy
-This can’t be real, but can’t be all made up as well,- murmured Johnny.
-At last, we broke up the cycle, escaping from those mundane preoccupations. You know, the people over there… They are capable of ruining even the most survivable buds of love. I’m not afraid of losing you. I know this moment is our ‘forever’. It’s just this kind of love that makes you ignore the very death for a moment.
-Do you want to escape with me, Christie? Let’s go far, far away where not even a single creature might find us.
-I do. Even if it be the edge of the world…
-No, not the edge. There is no edge to this round-shaped world. Where you are now, right there is the center of the globe and you can’t escape it. I mean another sort of escape. An escape to our United Kingdom of Imagination… Without borders, logical limits, claims that ‘it’s not possible’, without even those ‘magic drugs’ that some artists consider as the only way to get there. I invite you to our globe, woven out of pure imagination. Would you?…
“All you can imagine is real”
-Solitude of souls… It is no longer about us… I accept your challenge. Let’s take a trip while we have the opportunity. We might never be able to recreate this sensation, this euphoria, this interpenetration, this glorious flight, this smoldering hover over the tiny nocturnal lake…
-I see, you are not a coward one. You may seem all lost and timid in their everyday decision-making, but you set your soul free, you come to be a brave girl. So, in what direction do you want us to hover? And in which appearance?
-Johnny, I really don’t know. There are so many things in the universe, actually, both those breathing and breathless, whose existence I’d fancy experiencing. I really want to find out how it feels being a lake, a sky, a star (in its pure meaning), a wind blowing over the endless deserts and oceans. I’d feel like being a butterfly or… And what do you fancy?
-Hm, well… Once a person I strongly respect (though he did politics), said something like, ‘We all are worms, but I do believe I’m a glowworm.
-Oh, glowworm… An exquisite one… I see- its luscious music and the lucid glow. Right there, deep in the darkness… Like a smoldering sparkle of hope in the dreary nocturnal darkness. It proves that any dark night ‘has its silver line’.
-I could have never said better, Christie. Though, the scientists are being more prosaic over that, darling. “Glow worm is the common name for various groups of insect larvae and adult larviform females that glow through bioluminescence. They may sometimes resemble worms, but all are insects.”
– Oh, that cynical…
-You know, when one strives for a higher education, he has to memorize all kind of dull definitions and fossilized theories, even unrelated to the specialty, just to make it through. Still, I’ve always dreamt of getting down to a real excavation, darling. Imagine discovering some precious relics of the past that vaguely hint at our future.
-But all you get instead is cramming dull theory and finding it a great success to eventually become a white collar. I don’t want to put up with this. Can’t we pursue what we really enjoy? Can’t I make living by going deep into imagination and excavating some half-forgotten relics that warm up hearts?
-I don’t know. Actually, no one knows. You just dare, my dear! Whatever you do, I’m there for you.
-Never let me go… In this starless sky…
-I won’t. Wait, but how? Why do you see it starless? How can a sky over La Plata be all starless and completely moonless? My imagination took us there. But I guess you buried yourself under the burden of thoughts and anxieties that closed your vision and hindered you from seeing the stars. No more worries; just trust me! I’m gonna take you to a trip over Las pampas.
La Plata… The melodic paradise of South America… Where the stars are lavishly scattered in the sky and their breathing reflections inhabit the earth.
-Breathing stars right down there. Do you mean the glowworms, Johnny?
-Exactly. And I’d go even further…
-Do you mean, in order to see the beauty we should fly there with our own wings?
-You grasp it so perfectly, Christie… two kindred souls, a few millimeters in height and even less weight. That slight!
–But wait! Don’t forget to take a turn to the right, flying over the ocean all straight.
-Well, let’s make our way through the thick mist of the night…
-…vibrate in the air and let the wind excite…
-…our stormy souls that await the apex of their might!
More brilliant than the sun,
More hypnotic than the moon
-Johnny, darling. Can we pierce into the dreams of a glowworm? I fancy learning about their dreams, ambitions. What goals do they set and carry out during their short-lasting span? What on Earth makes them glow?
-I guess, the love.
-Oh, you sure?
-Huh, this time it’s not just me. It’s a scientific fact, acquired from those dull definitions I had to cram. Scientists do claim that the love makes them shine. They glow round to attract some mates and procreate.
-Urgh! That rudely! They procreate… What if the glowworms really fall in love and attract their one and only soul mates?
-Who knows? We’d never be able to find it out. But if you want the glowworms to have love marriages instead of arranged ones in our Dreamland, I wouldn’t particularly mind it. So, don’t get distracted because of the scientists. Their rules are of no help here in the Dreamland.
-I know, and being a writer presupposes being the one who hears her inner voice a bit better that the others do. But sometimes I fail hearing myself. Sometimes my inner self cries out as if caught in a stone capsule. And I can’t help her out…
-That’s why I settled this getaway just for you and me, Christie. I’m not gonna let you be swallowed by that deep abyss of uncertainty. Let’s not take a return ticket to the reality, until it is the very last call. And now, if you don’t mind, shall we check out what those two glowworms dream about? What would we be dreaming about if we were them? Just tell me…
-Freedom… We dream of freedom. But they already got it and enjoy it. Love… We dream of love. But they already got it and enjoy it. We dream of everything they already have.
-Except for one thing- the Time… Though our lives may seem to the Almighty just as short as the lives of glowworms seem to us. You know what I mean, Christie. They’ve got freedom, they’ve got love, but they don’t have an eternity to enjoy it.
-Till Death Do Us Part.
-Yeah… And we- human beings- are given a little bit more time to struggle to what we really care for. In order to be just in time for finding love and freedom… Better to say, the love that sets our souls free from the shackles of realty. We live precisely as much as it takes to find our peace of treasure in this world and contribute our own penny into the treasure chest of humanity…
-Sinister silence… Wondering why people call it like this? It’s not the silence that is sinister at the moment but the noises of the crowd that rushes nowhere just for the sake of rushing somewhere at rush hour. Johnny, I just can’t believe we are back here, to this city, to its rush hour. It all seems so banal after our fabulous nocturne.
Johnny just smiles in reply, but Christie is strongly determined to drag out at least a word out of him. ‘’He behaves like a stranger back in the city. The big city affects everybody. But how does He get affected?!’’- is on her mind.
People on the streets were just passing by. It seems that no one guesses about their story.
-They just look at us as if we were ordinary. No one even suspects…
Christie was just thinking aloud, without trying to regain John’s attention (as if two days of sincerity by the Lake were not enough for her). But he couldn’t help it. It may sound strange but he enjoyed her endless buzzing over there by his side. Maybe he should soothe her anxiety? But why do they need to utter any words after having said so much… Ok, anyway, if it soothes her…
- Don’t you care so much about what people may think, Christie! The only thing that matters is that I’m right there for you. And so are you, I hope.
- Do you leave me any other choice, Johnny?
- I don’t think so. We are gonna be stuck together even if the world ends. That’s our destiny.
- Like two glowworms? Till Death Do Us Part!
 In classical thought, a set of classical elements believed to reflect the simplest essential parts and principles of which anything can consist
 The Río de la Plata (from Spanish ‘River of Silver’) is the widest estuary in the world, the mouth the estuary is approximately 120 miles wide.
 Allusion to the set phrase