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Butterflies

A Short Story from Inside My Tummy

By Samuel NorthoverPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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There are so many butterflies in me.

Their colour will determine the kind of person I’ll be,

Their wingspan the intensity of their emotion.

Some time ago, my tummy was full of comfortably-sized creatures.

Their yellow, dainty wings beat at a steady pace and kept my mind’s cave from getting dusty.

At this time, my tummy bred butterflies of only one colour.

Their little golden eyes knew not the complexities of darker shades, nor the bitter cold of the spectrum’s other end.

They were content.

But one day the butterflies noticed that they had been hovering in place for quite some time.

The first signs of age began to creep up under their eyes as Time lit a fire under them.

And suddenly they learnt what it meant to feel longing.

They began to wonder what other colours looked like and how they would blend with their content yellow.

As the yellow bugs dreamed, their wings beat faster.

This was the start of something new.

It was excitement.

Passion.

Yearning.

And with the flurry of these new moods, a breath came down from above.

A wind that seeped down and down, surrounding the ever-growing flame of Time that roared from below.

Time’s echoing voice was but a whisper now.

Softer.

Calmer.

But then came another butterfly.

And so, another colour.

Pink.

The beautiful rose-gold tint of this butterfly’s wings only seemed to compliment the majesty of its enormous, eagle-like wings.

The native butterflies were over-joyed.

They flew beneath Pink’s wings and together they painted breathtaking landscapes of lilac and gold that would remain on the walls of my tummy forever.

The butterflies found harmony in each other’s colours as they continued to paint and draw and mix and match and explore the joy that came with the new addition to the family of butterflies.

But one day, as the yellows prepared to begin a new project, Pink was nowhere to be seen.

And from the bottom of the cave came a chill that slowly froze the natives in their tracks.

As they peered down into the abyss below, their tiny eyes discovered a new colour.

But this time it was not excitement or passion.

It was fear.

It was terror.

It was lonesome.

It was blue.

From the depths of my tummy soared a monster.

A navy dragon that shot up and swallowed the terrified yellow bugs.

The paint on the walls began to dry and crumble.

Their home began to freeze, and dust began to settle.

Something that had never been there before now fell over the cave.

Darkness.

The dragon slumbered next to the now blue flame as its chest heaved greatly, each breath wiping away the remainder of yellow and pink that was smeared along the walls.

Blue remained the dominant colour of the caves for what seemed like an eternity, the darkness swallowing up any colour that was warm.

But one day.

Between the splats of dead paint and between the wrinkles of the crusted walls, glowed something small.

Something small, but colourful.

A spark of yellow.

It appeared as if out of nowhere.

And behind it followed another spec.

But this one was pink.

A bubble-gum pearl.

One by one, more bright sparks emerged, each one brighter and more colourful than the last.

Each a new, different exciting colour.

A beautiful forest green.

A warm-hearted, tangy orange.

Purple.

Red.

Indigo.

Turquoise.

All unique, interesting shades that blended together and swirled round and round the cave, painting new landscapes and brining with them new feelings for the big pink blob up above to explore.

The dragon below rested still but now its chest was light.

Its nose now breathed not smoke, but a constant blend of all the beautiful colours of the rainbow.

This did not mean constant happiness.

It meant life.

It meant that the bad times would only compliment the happiness.

There is no light without dark.

There is no colour without grey.

But the one thing that is certain

Is that in my tummy there are

Butterflies.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Samuel Northover

a boy who thinks and feels too much

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