He waited; day's light faded to dull metallic.
On his lap electric blue glimmered along the edges of the book’s cover.
Opening, light flowed from pages where men and women, tiny figures, danced.
Music tinkled, glasses clinked. Pages turned. Night passed. Dawn edged the horizon with gold.
He stepped between the covers.
The book closed.
For more flash fiction stories, go Mr. Know-It-All's blog for links to this Friday's submissions.