"Black moths were dancing, because it was cold, because it was dark. Because they were hungry, for the butterfly."
Fem OC X Penny Adiyodi, Queliot
(To read the original, unedited version of this story, The Deceiver, see my profile)
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The truth is all about perspective. It is a comforting thought that the truth can be summed up into a series of facts and wrapped up in a pretty ribbon. But no matter how the evidence presents, the truth will vary from one mind to the next. What to one was a betrayal may be an act of protection to another. The only universal truth is that there is none. Is the truth the intention behind it? Or how it was received?
Through the eyes of a child, the world is simple. There is no suspicion of motives or fear of trust and love. A child, naive and untainted by the darkness of the universe, has a simple idea of truth. They see the world in black and white, good and evil, kind and mean. Only through time do they learn to see the range of grey in life. What they perceive may not be the truth of the matter. For some, this process of metamorphosis is more drastic than others. Lilly Cole would be the first to tell you this.
Lilly took her tea exceptionally sweet. Three sugar cubes, no milk, and served in the finest china she could find. Mr. Bear, however, liked no tea at all. Instead, he nursed a cup filled with golden honey. Mrs. Cottontail nibbled on a plate of carrot sandwiches. Lilly would have nothing but the best for her dearest and most steadfast friends. They were the only friends that stayed with her wherever her mother took them. London, Brussels, Paris, or New York.
Lilly wore her favorite periwinkle tea dress, her springy dark curls tied up with a pink satin ribbon. Her little fingers sported no gloves, as Mrs. Cottontail misplaced hers, and Lilly offered her own.
"Mr. Bear, would you like more honey?" Lilly asked, looking across the floral-clothed table at her guest. A steaming pot of peppermint tea, a pitcher of milk, a honey pot, and a bowl piled high with sugar cubes stood at the table's center. Mr. Bear did not respond, at least with his voice. Lilly looked into his yellow button eyes and knew that he did, indeed, want more honey.
"One can never have enough honey." He declared, and Lilly imagined that he winked at that. She reached over to the honey pot and scooped a full comb into Mr. Bear's cup. He smiled greedily but held back from gulping down the whole cup. Lilly sat back and lifted her delicate teacup to her lips. She sipped the sugary tea and wondered how anyone could drink it any other way. It would be unbearable, Lilly thought. Her mother liked to say that she had the taste buds of a hummingbird, but Lilly thought her mother had the taste buds of a raccoon.
