Creative Writing

Butterflies Part 3

I walk to the snack table in the backyard and pick up a piece of cheese pizza and a handful of Sour Patch kids and walk to a semi-solitary folding chair near the the back wall of the yard. A band is getting set up in one corner, along with a bunch of giggling girls on picnic blankets sitting in front of the “stage,” whispering secret no doubt about the lead singer’s hair or the drummer’s blue eyes.

I don’t belong here. I should be at home, reading “The Enormous Room,” by EE Cummings, or at least watching the latest Doctor Who episode. This, this social gathering that people come to for free food or to meet someone that they will eventually make out with, this is not my natural habitat. Or even the same ecosystem. I guess that’s what makes the difference between humans and animals. We will leave our natural environment for the ones we love. I start to daze off, thinking about blue whale migration patterns when I hear it. His voice.


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