The Wings of a Butterfly

He walks back down that familiar road. His whole life is contained within it. He uses this time to reflect after each day. The seasons and weather and shops all change, but it's always the same spot on the map. It's small. No one thinks much of it. It normally brings him joy, escaping from all the busyness and people for a few minutes, but this time it only brings loneliness.

His whole life has been building up to this moment, but he doesn't recognize it. He's finally getting that breakthrough, but it's not what he imagined it would be like. A little girl runs into him from behind. He can't figure out what happened and she's already crying. He looks down behind him and notices her sitting on the ground with her hands over her face. Just beyond her is a cat with those glowing eyes that remind you it's related to the great cats: leopards, jaguars, and tigers.

"What's wrong?" He asks the little girl. The cat jumps into her and changes into a butterfly. It's one of the white ones, beautiful, but not particularly noticeable. It flies up towards the skyline and a single rain drop falls on his face. He doesn't notice any clouds, but a crack of thunder sounds through the sky, sounding more like a lion than real thunder.

He can barely see the butterfly anymore, but he can feel its weight, hear its roar, and remember its pain. There's strength through pain and pain in strength. The man flaps his wings and flies into the night. It's the same old road, but he's been away too long. He retraces those familiar steps right back home. The cat cries in a lost alley. The little girl pounces. The strength of a great cat hidden in the wings of a butterfly.

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