The Butterfly
A Story Every Day in 2024 August 13th 227/366
The orangery was full of mist, artificially created to moisten the rainforest plants towering over her. Here, she was calm and able to think.
Rain pelted the glass and a wind howled outside her sanctuary. Strength would be needed today.
She went over to the clear box that housed her caterpillars. There was something about their fat form and the way they wriggled. She was almost tempted to tickle their tummies but resisted. These weren't her pets after all; they had a function.
She could see that some had cocooned themselves away. She was excited for tomorrow, if any would emerge. Satisfied, she settled down, in the space that she had created for herself, closing her eyes and silencing her mind. She needed full concentration if this was to work.
Her mind calmed and she worked on the process of envisioning scenes, vivid and bright and filled with joy. She tended to start small, with a compliment given unprompted, to the purchase of someone's coffee at the drive-through, to a volunteer at the soup kitchen, and on and on, until she climaxed in a crescendo of world leaders hugging at the end of a diplomacy session or racists being faced down by good people united against them.
Glass rattled as her thoughts coalesced.
As images grew in colour and intensity, she switched focus to her butterflies. Hers was a fanciful idea but she did it every day without fail, knowing that magic permeated the world and that we could all tap into its power if we only tried. She imagined her messages sitting on the backs of the wings of these beautiful insects and sailing out as optimistic riders, transmitting her message of hope and kindling a reaction of warmth and support.
Welled by the process, she got up and selected today's messenger. She spoke gentle words of encouragement as it sat on her palm, wings flexing.
She could not miss a day, despite the storm.
With force, she opened a window and released the butterfly.
She turned away, upset.
She had to believe that she had not sent it to its death; that hope would prevail, even in the face of a raging hurricane.
***
365 words
This is proper whimsy from me today and has been inspired by two things.
Firstly, conversation that I have had in comments' section where I have used the analogy of ideas of hope being like a butterfly in a hurricane, fighting to get through the storm. This metaphor is apt in a world where hope seems to be struggling in the onslaught of negativity and hate.
Secondly, The Great. I don't watch a lot of TV but The Great is brilliant. I am working on a piece about it so am not going to share overly much here but the character of Elizabeth has had an influence on this piece, fond as she is of butterflies. You'd need to watch it to get the reference but she is a key character in the show.
Thanks for stopping by! If you do read this, please leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.
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Comments (11)
That opening scene had me wanting to visit the butterfly habitat at the Calgray zoo, it's been a while since I've visited!! But also, the beauty of this piece was so stilling. I know the world you built had magic but it felt like realism in the sense that people do meditation like the MC as a way of manifesting what they want from the world.... so this was interesting for me!! Great work Rachel!
This was stunning. I hope we can all be butterflies in the hurricane still trying to do good. You wrote this so well.
Absolutely adored this, Rachel!! Loved the imagery, magic, and hopelessness! A butterfly in a hurricane is such a great analogy
Beautiful allegorical story. I love the concept of the messenger butterfly.
I will have to give that a watch, because this intruigued me so much!
This is lovely. I really like the metaphor of hope you've come up with. Well done.
Mine is A - Negative! 😝
Hope in the form of butterfly facing a hurricane is a powerful metaphor for today’s world, Rachel. I enjoyed this story.
Another delightful, intriguing story. I’m curious about the TV show too🧐.
I suppose a butterfly in a hurricane is a little more hopeful than a snow ball in hell. But it seems analogous to the dire threats that hope faces in the world today. A lovely story, nonetheless.
I've never even heard of The Great so I'm looking forward to reading your piece. As for hope, I'd like to repeat the words of Spencer Hastings from Pretty Little Liars, "It breeds eternal misery"