#407 (breeding butterflies)

They took him when he was only five years old.

“You will be a bright light for others,” they told him,

stealing him out of his loft bed from his family’s homestead.

He just stared at them in awe, a weird boy with three-coloured

eyes and a soft voice.


They told him wonders and magic beyond

imagination as he marveled at their vast power and cruel beauty,

learning everything they had to offer, devouring every tome of

knowledge until there was nothing left for him to learn. So they

cast him back, cast him back, like a stone, seeing if he would make

the fall, or break like all the others they had taken before him.

He plumetted to the ground, crashing and shattering into thousands

of pieces and they watched and smiled. Cold smiles without neither

joy nor compassion until  they turned away their gazes from this mortal

coil and retreated forever into the realm of fiction.


What had escaped their attention was, that a single piece of the boy’s soul

had survived and it was slowly growing, blinking, feeding on the love

of strangers who saw the reflection of a child in a well, a mirror

or a window while shopping. Bit by bit, piece by piece, he was mending

himself and once he had accomplished this amazing feat, he simply stood  in

silence, a grown man with the soul of a child.

Looking back into  the future he chose

that from this day on he would be wandering the Earth, breeding butterflies in his

wake for others to see and remember about true beauty. And if you look really

closely today you might see the face of a young man, smiling wide in

the bright sparkle of their dusty flight.

© Matthias Geh, 15th July 2018


    1. Thank you!!! This piece is very close to my heart. And it is the first time in ages I’ve reentered the realm of prose. I’m more than happy you even shared it. 🌛🌏🌜

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