Underground butterflies

The greatest discovery he ever made! In a lifetime a man can only have one of those. Only one thing that can make a difference and make other remember him. For him, it was the underground butteflies.

The assistant cleared her throat to get his attention: “Sir, we’re ready for you, but also, you wife wants to see you after the talk.”

He shrugged, “I won’t have time, the interview starts right after the talk. And then I need to meet the prime minister."

"But sir, she’s come a long way."

"I know,” he snapped, “She is my wife, after all. Was."

"Sir, your ex-wife will only take a few minutes. She wants to talk about Hubert."

"For fuck’s sake. Couldn’t she just call me?”

Afterwards, he could not focus on giving his talk. Then he asked the assistant to tell the interviewer he would be late.

His ex-wife was waiting by the window in the dining room. Nobody was there except her, and she was staring out into the grey afternoon. Her back was narrow, her shoulders small and hunched a little. She had always been small, but now she looked emaciated. Eaten by age. Wasting.

Her dress was printed with tiny flowers but they looked like skulls in this light. Or like the patterns on the wings of his underground butterflies. Her neck was white, too, and her hair hadn’t been washed recently.

He hesitated before getting her attention. He hanged there between the moment he walked in and the moment the conversation would start. The moment stretched out, longer and longer, until he could not see either side of it anymore. And in the gray nothing, he felt like he was about to discover another great thing.

But things like that never happen twice.

Posted by: Paweł Kowaluk