Familiar

The package arrived on a rainy afternoon, dropped at my door like an omen that forgot to knock. When I bent to pick it up, I noticed a butterfly wing nestled beside it. Paper thin, dusty in my hand. Shouldn't have meant anything, especially here in the desert where dead things collect at my door. Storms have been raging across the valley, a lone wing felt inevitable. But still, I brought it in. I guess, overtime, papilionoidea have been a growing interest to me. My late grandmother had collected them, and now I find them everywhere. As a child, I would spend hours in oak acreage watching caterpillars grow into felt sacks, and then eventually emerge. A small, winged and fleeting thing that would soon haunt me. This is a special book that redefined an entire genre of romance (and sci-fi) for me. In some ways, it broke me - I haven't truly enjoyed anything in the genre since being brought to my knees in heaving tears. This book weaponized the butterfly effect, and opened my heart to perceive subtle synchronicities. That wing now rests on my favorite page - the first admission of love and the courage to bare oneself to the truth, even if it would break reality - even if it would kill time. Maybe one day, when I open the book again, the wing will still be preserved. Even in a place of dust, and endings - something beautiful found it's way to me. "And love is a ghost that the others can't see."

Melissa