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“One, two, three,” counted Luna, pointing at every firefly that blinked on in the meadow. Milo tried to keep up, but the fireflies kept drifting and blinking and glowing in new places.
“I've lost count,” Milo laughed, flopping onto the grass. Luna flopped down beside him, and together they just watched the little lights dance instead.
By the end of the night, neither of them knew exactly how many fireflies they'd seen — but they agreed it was the best kind of number to lose count of.