Uninspiring Short Stories - The Grasshopper in the Morning Dew

It was half twelve and the morning dew was still holding to those blades of grass, holding on as if life depended on it.
The grasshopper stared on at the little droplets for some time.
She was diving for memories, pulling them clear to the surface.
She was remembering a time when those very droplets had reflected in her eyes and caught the inspiration of her love.
Her eyes began to sparkle now... Though not with reflections of a dew but of a salty water in which she could not remember the meaning.