'And the Butterflies Began to Sing'
A Micro Fiction Piece
A micro fiction piece inspired by this dark, surrealist piece of art, which doubles as a collage and a painting. Enjoy <3
The night was soft and warm and filled with the song of the butterflies.
The melody was spun from the humming of coiled tongues and the whisper of painted wings. It wound through the streets, settled against lamp posts, filled the ears of late night walkers; those commuting home or hurrying to a candlelit dinner or leaning against brick walls, cigarettes dangling from dry lips, filthy hands beckoning for change. They all paused to listen, to soak in the beauty of the dark butterflies soaring through the night, nothing more than silhouettes brushing against the glass of windows.
The song was a sweet poison poured into their ears. And, when the first butterflies landed on outstretched fingers or the tips of button noses, everyone gasped in delight.
Then, below the gathering, cloying melody, the butterflies swarmed the nearest pedestrians. And the screams began.
There is a fantastic flow to this, like you could sing it. Nearly mythic and can easily be seen as a dark fairytale.
Breathtaking 🙌