Dearest most colourful and bright beautiful sparklingness Becky, you are the wind, you are the reason for our life, we watch your every movement, breathless with awe, and with each sinuous step that you take, the winds of the sky swirl hypnotically and chaotically, and we, we are swept up and are aloft, gliding through the streaming ribbons of colour that is your love.
Butterflies. Welcome to Scrine. Congratulations on your first sentence here!
I’ve always meant to ask, how is it that the beat of a butterfly wing in Peking can lead to a hurricane over the Atlantic ocean?
It is because of the wonderous ways of our beauty-beast Becky. She breaths and the world changes.
[boot flaps at the butterflies hovering around her head and wonders why she’s sitting at the computer when she thought she was meant to be making coffee]
all this time, you mean, it’s been butterflies??