View

butterflies

I stared at them, for a long while, Butterflies, their wings a spectacular display of oranges and yellows. I knew what I was trying to do, I also knew that it would probably never work.

I let my fingers unful, clamp up and bend as far as they could. The way Aimee explained it was that there are strings holding everything together, you pull enough in the right way you can control things, like a puppets. I knew it was probably more complicated than that, but you don't need to know why the sun rises, only that it does. And I needed it, I needed magic so bad I was willing to believe in it, it was as easy to believe in as the sun.

They fluttered about frantically in the jar crashing into its sides, bruising those beautiful wings. I just need to make then stop, just for a moment.

I tried to imagine those strings spilling out from their wings, scattered with my hair in the wind, but all they did was fly faster.

I squeeze my hand tighter, like getting a better grip on the reigns would give me more control.

The wings flutter fast, so fast I could barely see if they were up or down.

My hands shake, something holding me back.

Then they fall into fist, I barely thought it, then I watched as the butterflies wings crumple in on themselves, folding up like a discarded piece of paper, it reminded me so of a day that seemed to be a million miles away.

***