I always thought I would turn into a beautiful butterfly. Instead I’ve become an ugly black moth, now dead behind that cold door hinge. Wings which once fluttered are being bitten off diligently. My tiny fragile body, all dried up and still, waiting to be eaten away.
Scarred once by burning brightness, I shied away to gloomy cupboards and grimy crevices. Darkness soon became my favourite companion. My only companion. I hardly moved through the day but was held by a strange pull at night, a longing I could not recognise. The cupboard has been home for the longest time I could remember. I would crawl out from time to time for some food, but not for long, I would be back to my safe spot. Once again cradling that strange desire.
But today I decided to venture out. A tiny wall lamp guided me to the living room. I crawled up the shelf and moved along the show pieces. I did not understand the significance of a stone, a doll or a decorated knife but it must mean something to them. I inched past hundreds of musty paper, neatly stacked, with strange curly ink on them. Could be another bizarre obsession, I thought. It was when I was about to slide down to the sofa that I saw it. A stream of liquid white light cascading elegantly into the room. Like the finest silk woven by an ingenious artisan, it flowed. Flawlessly.
My heart skipped. Muscles tighten. Fluttering towards it, I stopped few steps short. All my tiny legs quivered as I walked gingerly into the radiance. It flowed from the window all the way till the door, illuminating everything on its way and abruptly disappearing into the hollowness below the door. I turned around to face the source, a glistening white pearl hoisted up in a sooty sky. And in that moment of ephemeral stillness, I knew it.
Frantically I stuttered up the glass searching for a non existent opening. I flew right on to the window as an attempt to break open. I tugged at the hinges with my feeble legs and pulled the latches with my antennas. Breath shortened, insides crushed. Yet it remained shut. After several long moments of desperate struggle, I clung on to the cold glass, sinking deep into the silver glow. Time puddled on infinitely as did my yearning. And then, devoid of any odd omen, my heart gave up – like the old wall clock which stopped ticking. Abrupt. I spiraled down into an infinite abyss, drinking in the last droplets of moonlight.
An army of ants dragging me to darkness, once again.
“Maaaaa look at this. I found him by the door”, pudgy little fingers held up a half eaten moth. He sets it down on the floor and slowly opens the crumbled wings.
Bewitching black and silver blades, as though a drop of moonlight rippled on velvet black wings..