Knowing from her high school science class that butterflies had a very short life span, her heart went out to the magnificent beauty in her hands. Two more butterflies floated past her and she saw more in the distance, teasing her with their dance.
Her husband would have cringed if he saw her holding the creature this way. He had many phobias, one of them being entomophobia, the fear of bugs. She imagined a sweat breaking out on his brow and chuckled to herself. She had decided that she was fearless. Always holding her husbands hand and stroking his hair during his panic attacks. She was the strong one and many people had commented on the change of roles in their marriage. She was also the sole breadwinner and had been since he’d developed a fear of germs. Mysophobia the doctor had called it. He was obsessive about it to the point where he would go through several bottles of antibacterial cleaner a day. She was lucky enough to have landed a job that gave her the option to work from home, but she only did so if he was having an extremely bad day. She argued with him constantly about this, but she had won the fight when she insisted that it wasn’t her that had phobias. She needed to get away from him sometimes, but she still loved him with all her heart and knew that she would always be there for him, no matter what. But what new phobia would he come up with the next day…and the next? She wondered.
As she came closer to the iron gate at the end of the road, she opened up her palms and told the butterfly to flee. It moved its wings up and down a few more times and then it floated up into the air, circled around her a few times and then floated back to land on the headstone of her husbands grave. She had once read that birds were the harbingers of souls. They would help the spirits and guide them to the afterlife. But what of butterflies? Why were they here? She studied the remainder of the mourners paying their last respects to her husband. His parents, aunts and uncles had all left after the service. Only a few of his old school chums were there, reminiscing on the “good ole days”. No one mentioned how her husband had died or why. People only smiled and offered condolences. The red and blue butterfly landed on the shoulder of one of the school chums and he absentmindedly slapped it off. It fell to the ground and was trampled by unknowing feet. She shuddered at the tragedy of it and new tears streamed down her face. Some of her husbands chums strolled past her and patted her sympathetically on her back. They did not know she wasn’t crying for her husband. She pushed her hands into her coat pockets and felt the empty pill bottle in there. Smiling, she knew that the first thing she would do when she got home was throw all of his pill bottles away.
Comments
I like how you opened and closed with the butterfly. Can’t help but feel sorry for everyone in the story.
Thank you, Zolton!
– deb cole
Interesting twist…still leaving us wondering…Beautiful descriptions about the butterfly.
Thank you, KMorral!
– deb cole
A touching and very moving piece of writing. You tug a lyrical psalm at the heartstrings of your characters and present the fraility of the huma condition. Beautiful and stellar!
Thank you very much, John!
– deb cole
I, like Zolton, like the way you open and close with the butterfly. Anya has a way of doing this too – of stitching in something which in one sense has nothing to do with the story, and in another has everything to do with it. Nice writing!
Thank you so much, Mark!
– deb cole
Enthralling and engrossing! excellent story with a gradual twist. good write! JH
Thank you, Jim!
– deb cole
A really enjoyable story which well deserves it’s joint 2nd place in Twisted Tournoi 05
Thank you, Micky! Glad you liked it!
– deb cole
I really like the dark tones of this piece—especially as you’ve contrasted the dark mood with a butterfly which is everything light and joyous. Really nice work
Thank you, Priya! I’m so glad you liked this one!
– deb cole
You give this story plenty of space: space for the story to breath: space for the reader to share the feeling you convey.
Thanks for sharing this work.
Matthew, thank you so much for taking the time to read my story and respond to it! It means a great deal to me!
– deb cole
Great story Deb, easy to read and compelling, great twists :-)
Thank you so much for reading my story, Matt! I’m delighted that you’ve enjoyed it!
– deb cole