Thursday, July 26, 2012

I don't like butterflies anymore after writing all these...


Prisoner
            I wipe my brow and sigh, finally done with the last of the flowers. I gather the tools and planters together and gratefully pry off the ruddy work gloves. I sit a moment and look over the plants, admiring the colors. Plenty are bright orange, like our uniforms. I notice the twitch of wings on one of them, a butterfly has already started pollinating. It must have flown in over the wall and past the guards, from the outside. It could probably leave too, whenever. I give another sigh, then hoist the tool back to the shed.

Fashion Designer
            I am in the park again, and I don’t know why. Its no more inspiring than my studio. My eyes wander the gardens along the brick path. The air is thick with butterflies, some even land on me. I never understood the obsession over these bugs, ever since I was expected to adore them as a little girl. They’re black and big eyed beneath their gaudy wings, not pretty at all… Not unlike some of my competitors now that I think of it. Maybe a minimalist line, something honest…

Blind person
            A gentle feeling is on my hand, and six tiny legs perch on my knuckle. I don’t move at all, just feel little creature on me. I feel the faintest gusts on either side of it. Wings? I hear a sniffing and a wet nose nudges my hand, and the creature flies off. I shrug and pat Rufus, then take up my cane and leave the bench.

Child
            My sister runs up to me yelling. She shows me a jar with a butterfly inside it, and it crawls around. I take the jar and open the lid to let the butterfly out. She looks a little angry, but she likes to see it fly. So I clap my hands together, and open them to show her its crushed guts on my palm. She runs off crying to tell mom, the dumb tattletale.

Dying person
            My chest feels tight and soon I’m falling. I’d hoped it wouldn’t be in the woods, I liked these walks. Will they ever find me? I try to make calls for help but I don’t have any breath. Colorful wings land on my arm. I don’t take my eyes off of it. Certainly not what I had hoped for, but not a bad last sight.

Cat
What’s that? I don’t know, but it moves a lot! I pounce at it, but it flutters away. It thinks a tree can save it, but I climb it masterfully! But curses, I run out of branch! I let it fly off, having lost interest. I look about me and wonder how I get down. I must have assistance.

I call for the can-opener, and after far too long he appears. He looks at me clueless for a moment, then leaves. I call again and he returns quicker this time with a contraption he props against the tree. He climbs it and tries to help me, but he does not handle me properly and I give him the appropriate scratching. The can-opener makes a face at me and babbles something, climbing back down. I am left to myself, and before I can engineer a plan I must nap.

I am rudely awoken as two yellow skinned can-openers smelling of the slobbering menace arrive in a big red box. They also have a climbing contraption and use it to reach me. They grab me and scratch them as I might their yellow skinned hands are impervious, and I am carried down despite my protests. I am given to my can-opener and am brought back inside. He seems to have neglected his primary duties to me this night and I am left with the hard food.

Poet
I stare at the butterfly in the window planter. Graceful as they are I don’t dare put it to speech, too cliché.  But what if it were smashed…? Tragedy that such an innocent creature be cut down when it performs so sacred a duty! That is different. I rush off to fetch a hammer.

Shut-in
An intruder of the outside is in my lair. It crawls over my discarded chips bags and flutters about me, making me nervous. Who sent it, I wonder? No friend of mine, certainly! I snatch its wings and rush to the door as it squirms in my hand. I open the door swiftly, shielding my eyes from the awful sun and cast it forth back into the vile unknown. I shut the door and finally feel safe again.

Workaholic
I speak on my phone and pull my daughter behind. We were supposed to spend the day alone, but there is too much going on. We pass a garden and she chatters about something excitedly. I shush her and keep talking.

Alien
I take care not to damage the specimen and place it on the testing field. I observe it, measure it, record its behavior. Finally I hit the big red button with a sense of dread… But sweet success it does not resist the laser and is incinerated. I must be careful, for not a single life form must be able to withstand the invasion, so all must be accounted for.

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