The Journey Of A Butterfly

This is probably a really boring story.
But still i would like to tell you the true story of a butterfly that i met at Handelskai, trainstation.
First i was bored because i had to wait for 20 minutes, and nothing would catch my eye or interest. The camera was just as bored as me, but then i saw this butterfly sitting next to me. That’s him. He didnt look too healthy, sitting there, not really safe by the stomping murderous feet of human beings trying to catch their trains. First, i took photos. Then i decided to sit on the bench next to the poor butterfly and be sure that nobody would step on him. He was indeed a fragile thing, and i adore butterflies since my weird fetish about the books of Vladimir Nabokov Within seconds that butterfly was on my hand, crawling up and down, tickling my fingers, opening its wings once in a while. I was grinning like an idiot, and so were the people that saw me sitting there with that cute little thing on my hand. Needless to say i had my problems to shoot holding the camera with one hand (mind you, it is indeed a heavy one!). One time it decided to check out the butt of the girl sitting next to me. I didnt want to take a photo of her butt, so i just smiled at her and pointed at the butterfly. She smiled and asked: “Do you want him back?” and allowed me to touch her butt with one finger. The loyal little white thing crawled back on my hand (and i got to touch a stranger’s butt!) and stayed there. Once a train stopped and the conductor smiled at me and said “He obviously likes you.” and i only nodded. He probably thought i am a weirdo, or a kid. (And i got to touch the butt of a young lady!) My train arrived, and it was impossible to make the butterfly fly away or sit on the bench. I pondered. Knowing that when i am starting to ponder hours can fade without a good idea, i stopped it and simply took the butterfly with me. I sat down, and he instantly flew on the window and stared outside. I kept taking photos, listening to Elysian Fields while he was there. Once he flew on my shoulder, and one time on my nose. I can only imagine what the man sitting in front of me thought, when i talked to the butterfly. I bet he only had good thoughts about me! (Yeah riiiight.) He definetely loved to sit on my hand, which was good cause the tickling on my shoulder was not really bearable. Even though it was bad, cause i had to hold the camera with one hand again. I kept talking to him, and the conductor only arched a brow. It is obviously not normal when someone talks to a butterfly, even though everyone can see the butterfly (and not only the talking person, which would be indeed strange), so i decided to shut my mouth until we got to my station. I was worried that Mr. Butterfly wouldnt keep sitting on my shoulder as soon as i would try to open the door, but he was lovely and sweet and didnt move. Funny enough, i couldnt make him sit in the gras cause he would try to get back on me again. It was a long and heartwrenching fight, i tell you. It was THAT difficult to make him get off me, but in the end he realised that it would be better this way. We couldnt marry, we wouldnt be a great couple, he knew it. So he stayed in the fine huge green gras, that was finer and greener than the gras in Handelskai. Goodbye, Mr. Butterfly!

3 Comments so far

  1. Meral (unregistered) on May 8th, 2006 @ 8:42 am

    Hey Daniela,
    This is not even a little bit boring story!!! Indeed it has brightened my Monday morning which was blackened by headache…

    And not to talk to a butterfly who liked you a lot, would had been a very impolite behaviour. So you did the perfectly normal thing by talking to the butterfly. Keep on talking to butterflies (and all the rest, of course). (There is not even a little bit sarcasm in my last two sentences!!!)

  2. m (unregistered) on May 9th, 2006 @ 2:03 am

    i don’t even know how i got to this web site.
    thanks for the beautiful love story though.

  3. lisa (unregistered) on May 9th, 2006 @ 4:22 pm

    this cute story has just made my day!thanks for sharing

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