The little girl is walking towards the roaring sea. She can hear it now.
The most beautiful little butterflies are surrounding her. They will die soon, when the tide turns, and the night is over. She can feel them dying in her bones. Like beauty, like dying.
The most beautiful little girl is walking towards the roaring sea, surrounded by dying butterflies. Except, perhaps she is a boy. Someone explain the difference to her.
The fear surrounding her came deep from within her heart. She didn’t have to be strong anymore. She squished a butterfly under her toe.
What will die soon shall die now, she said, and lay down to let the tide’s clammy hands feel her over.
It will all be over once the tide has turned.
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