Firefly Glen left my sanity

a ghost materialized from the darkness, and worldeater turned to stare at the soul gone for a stroll. his smiled fell only slightly at the realization that this was not a paranormal act, only that of a chatterbox. 

the man talked. talked. talked some more. the smiling man did not listen, busy snapping at the little lanterns floating around him. he collect two, then three in his mouth, the faint glow growing brighter each time. he danced with a feathery swirl around the man still yapping — he imaged himself as pretty as a headless ballerina.  

he whirled some more until — silence. he stopped mid pirouette, sunburned stare finally acknowledging the stranger who now sat with mouth closed. how he'd like to sew that mouth shut, he just need a needle and thread. 

he turned, plopped his boney haunches to the floor in a copycat move of the stranger, before proceeding to spit the now slobber soaked bugs at the man as if they were sunflower seeds. 

"you talk a lot," he finally spoke through his smile once all the little lights had been spat from his jaws.