Stories

Waltz of the Butterfly

Wings soar high, higher then the gentle grass swaying in the breeze. Flash of blue, purple, gold; a dance of worship towards the rainbow coloured sky. A sinking sun casting light across the world, bathing all in flames of golden dusk. Autumn leaves drift by on a single gust of air; the flight at last disrupted.

Wings stumble, faltering in panicked chaos. Pitter patter, rain falls down.  A broken dancer falls to their knees, cracking like an ancient painting. The darkness of clouds swirl around, nothing more then a storm of madness, throwing thin shards of light to the ground in sharp spikes of anger.

Wings have fallen, blown about by a thunderous wind. Cold, uncaring seas tremble and collapse, energy diminished. Storms race towards the horizon, frightened. The waltz has ended and the dusk is gone.

Wings turned blue when the cloak of Winter came. She’d loved to dance with rainbow wings across the setting sun. But the whispering coloured shades of spring fell deadly still in the quiet, cold embrace. Silent tears of ice and snow slipped down her pale face. Till then the flight was caged inside a frozen, silent mist.

So basically I found this short story I wrote years ago for a competition that I didn’t win #sadtimes. After giving it a few tweaks to make it flow better I thought it sounded pretty decent. I hoped you liked it, and if you did I’ll try and dig a few more out of the hidden computer folders around the house! 🙂

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