~400 words
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Kaleo ran beside the beautiful butterflies flying in the
dusk light, tittering before him like fairies, zipping this way and that. They
came in the fall, when the rest of the valley became a barren landscape of
skeleton trees and scraggly bushes. Yellowed grass crumpled beneath his
sneakers.
With the sun behind the largest
mountain—though it was really more a tall hill—the sky blossomed into a deep
vermilion, and the half moon grew more powerful. Yet between that and Kaleo
were the butterflies.
Underneath
their fluttering, he laughed and danced as they did. With dusk nearly complete,
light fading in each passing moment, the butterflies and their iridescent wings
brightened.
Kaleo
followed one in particular. It seemed to coast more than the others, flapping
its brilliant emerald to violet to cerulean hues only to settle on incandescent
gold. The butterfly arched high in the air, completing a twist and coasted
toward its vibrant brethren. They swirled together in a rainbow vortex before
breaking apart like a meteor shattering across the atmosphere.
Kaleo fell
to the ground and lay there, quietly, with his hands rested on his stomach,
watching the angels pass in the air.
He dozed for a time.
When he woke, he smiled; they
remained above, as always. He held his hand up, inspecting it in the ghostly
moonlight. So plain, the skin. Affording no shimmers in the night.
A brilliant idea occurred to him.
With zest, he leapt to his feet.
Then crouched.
Overhead, the butterflies continued
their striations.
His mother called to him from the
porch.
Just a few more minutes.
Make it one minute, Kaleo, dinner
is ready.
Nearly there.
A butterfly broke off from the
glittering haze, a lost star. It spun alone in the air, keeping time to its own
rhythm. Slowly, in downward spirals, it came.
Clap.
Kaleo cupped it between his hands.
He smiled to himself. It splashed around within his hermetic finger cage.
Slowly, he separated his thumbs, peering in. Only darkness. He frowned and
opened his hands. Nothing remained but black splatters across his palms.
A tear fell from his eyes, smudging
the bloody stains.
Above him, the other butterflies
flickered and went dark. But he knew they were there. He thought they would
never light up again. Their vigil lasted seconds. They left him in the quiet
night, upon their iridescent wings.
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