Butterfly fly away
It was a Spring afternoon, the period when flowers grow. “Colorful trees make days more pleasant” said my mother every day before kissing my forehead and then saying “I love you Tom, my little son”. Nineteen years were too many for someone to be called as little son, but I loved it.
But I didn't know that morning would be the last usual morning with the most prized person I had in the world. She died, and life was cruel enough with me that I had to see it. I never hated someone so much as I did with that driver, which made a non-stop race on my mom.
Previously my legs didn't answered, and my body fell on my knees. Dark. It was a sea of darkness what I could see. I felt like a blind person trying to appreciate a rainbow. Suddenly my sight clarified. Now black turned to grey. Decayed trees appeared in front of me, in a giving-up position their branches were oppressively touching the dry land in a softly way, like if they knew the land had suffered enough to be maltreated.
From some old leaves, it flew rapidly a colorful butterfly. I made the effort and I stood up to see better that gorgeous creature, but it started moving quicker than ever. I just wanted to observe that little living thing all my life so I ran and ran until it started to elevate, and as an act of magic, it vanished in the air…
That was the last time I ever saw it.
