Habitat of Butterflies

bya Gabrielle at 11:45 PM

I came across a field of sunflowers mostly by chance the other day, and decided to investigate.

What I thought was a field of sunflowers ended up being a field of condominiums inhabited by a score of Monarch butterflies and a few rather menacing looking bumble bees.

They were all pretty perturbed at the fact that I was A) not invited, B) that I had not knocked(even though I swore that I had never seen a door), and C) that I was neither a Monarch butterfly or a bumble bee.

After much conversation about how rude I was, I convinced one of each species to pose for a picture. I assured them that I was a professional and that taking pictures of such beautiful creatures had been my calling. I don’t know if they believed me or not. Probably not.

Ms. Monarch came first, and she was a little shy. She demanded that I take her picture through her kitchen window. At first I argued this. I told her that I would not be able to capture her essence, but she wouldn’t allow any thing else. She said something about it not being proper with her being an unmarried Monarch and all or something to that effect. I wasn’t really paying attention because a certain, impatient bumble bee was eying my bent over beehind(sorry, I couldn’t resist.)

After taking Ms. Monarch’s picture, I bustled on over to Mr. Bumble Bee’s residence. He was buzzed(that’s pissed in Bee if you’re wondering) and it was rather obvious, but he still offered me a thimble of honey. It tasted a lot like sunshine, which is very good by the way. If you’ve never sampled it, you should take a side trip to the Sun sometime in the near future. The sun itself is a sight to see. But anyway, he buzzed some directions at me and I did strictly as I was told, afraid that if I did anything other than instructed, I would be screeching in agony while I smashed the hell out of one temperamental bee. And with a quick “click”, mine and Mr. Bumble Bee’s short acquaintance came to end.

As I strode away from the lot of Sun Flower condominiums, I scratched my head thinking nothing weirder could possibly happen. But as I usually am, I was sadly mistaken.

One of the, I’ll call them houses, stretched out in front of my path, and asked for a word with me. I obliged, for I had never had a house talk to me before.

“Before you go,” the sun flower condominium said, “take a picture of me.”

“A picture of you?”

“Yes. Would that be a problem?”

“Well, no . . . it’s just that I’ve never been propositioned by a house is all. It’s a first.”

“Ah . . .”

“May I ask why?”

And her answer was this.

“I am more beautiful and complex than that of my tenants, but you must get close to see. I am not a single flower, but a thousand flowers that create one.”

And with another simple “click”, I continued along the path and crested the hill.

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