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Becky and her friends lay on their backs in the field watching the butterflies skywrite love letters in rainbow trails, surrounded by empty bottles, the case of ambrosia nearly finished.
Dearest most colourful and bright beautiful sparklingness Becky, you are the wind, you are the reason for our life, we watch your every movement, breathless with awe, and with each sinuous step that you take, the winds of the sky swirl hypnotically and chaotically, and we, we are swept up and are aloft, gliding through the streaming ribbons of colour that is your love.
Yesterday I volunteered at my kid’s school, where several hundred of us put up an entire playground - cemented posts and all - and painted four-square boards and a colorful U.S. map on the asphalt, as well as planting a butterfly garden; it may well be the most useful thing I have done for anybody in the last four years.
They’re the answer to our butterfly problem.
I’m with him.
Schrodinger’s Cat, satisfied that Einstein would not be able to respond to his accusation about wormholes in Utah, turned his attention to killing the butterflies who were dancing about in the atrium garden; Einstein, repulsed by the cat’s predatory behavior, tried appealing to the cat’s sense of reason only to be told that since Chaos Theory suggests that a butterfly flapping his wings in the atrium could ultimately create a tsunami off the coast of Tokyo justifies his need to exterminate every butterfly that he runs into and, when you think about it, he was actually doing the world a favor.
The yentas of Marion County attired in gaily colored dresses, large floppy hats and white shoes flitted about town like fat, middle aged butterflies landing briefly wherever the intoxicating and fragrant nectar of juicy scandal puddled at the feet of their hapless neighbors.
Pretty they may be, but how many flighty, overly pretty people do you trust?
Please, miss, stop stepping on butterflies - you know not what you do.
Peter’s first butterfly hat had a funny way of fluttering off his head at the most inopportune moments.
"Amazonian Butterflies Drink Turtle Tears."
Timmy, a previously uncaring little boy, watched mortified as the turtle became covered in a crazy, multicoloured blanked of humming, tear-supping butterflies.
Some thought the turtle tears would be a powerful aphrodisiac, but soon found out it only made them run slow and unreasonably fearful of butterflies.
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