The Caterpillar & Butterfly

The Caterpillar & Butterfly

2 mins
302



“Why don’t you ever change? Aren’t you bored?” asked the butterfly.

“Ah, I don’t know, (the caterpillar lied), just because,” he said. He took a sip of his coffee, then smacked his lips, which in caterpillar-speak meant, “oh well.”

“Because? Because of what?” she pressed, then sucked on her straw, slurping up the milkshake. “God that’s good,” she drawled. “You should try it.”

“Just because it is all I’ve got, but you know this,” he answered. He cupped his drink for ballast, enjoying the burn, but not the pending conversation. Like the caterpillar, that never changed.

“Hmmm, ok.” Her eyes flicked up at him, then back to the creamy, banana goodness. She took a longer suck on the straw, then said, “Change is good. I normally have strawberry, don’t I, but today, I’m glad I have changed to this.” She took another suck. 

“Choice is better. Change for the sake of? It never satisfies for long.” He opined.

Soon, she was greedily hoovering dregs of milkshake. She sucked and sucked and su—.

“Do you have to make that noise?” He eyeballed her. “Haven’t you had enough?”

She fluttered her eyelashes, just like butterflies do.

“Enough is never enough,” she stated. “Anyway, back to you.” She slid the empty glass to the centre of the table, the straw she kept between her fingers like a cigarette. It gave her balance.

“Please try some change. You can ya know. I did, and...Well, look at me now?” she said.

“Hmmm.” It was his turn to be vague, but this came naturally, like breathing, to him. He smacked his lips once more.

“Hmmm?” She said leaning back, the faux leather squeaking with her moves. “Hmmm ya say, what are you implying?” 

They’d sat in the booth for an hour, skirting around and sharing versions of the same old story. The story without an end. She folded her arms, and he leaned back and waited...But not for long.

“Something is wrong with me?” She knitted her brows into a question, making her look even more adorable. She looked her best angry. Or horny. Or smiling, or crying, or...anything she did. He loved all of her.

“No. You’re perfect,” he promised, (not lying).

Leaning forward, his hands clamped to the edge of the table, he breached to her side. “But you always were...are, I mean. I never asked you to change...Never. So don’t ask me.”



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