I was on my way to take a bus 141, on the Scalabrini avenue. Walking became ritual and no thoughts were introduced until interrupted by a yellow butterfly. Where did she come from? She was just mingling in front of me for a while toward the same direction I was walking, then sat on my shirt just as if she’d known me for a long time. I kept walking toward the bus station passing grocery shops, bakery, police station and gym. It’s like she was there whole time with me indicating me the very memories we had shared.
Then I felt responsible to keep her safe even knowing that it won’t last long; breezy air slapped me time to time and my shirt flagged often. Would she have such strong legs to stick onto me? Or should it be my responsibility even, taking her in my hand, casted? Eventually after a big wind carried her away.
She came to me with solitude, and left me forward with the very solitude. Someone might call this as a precious memory but having this memory just hurts.
I walked forward knowing her staying behind. Or perhaps she also flied away, against the wind that took her away from me. Then it got me thinking; knowing that it would be a snaping moment of living, is it worth to having kept her on my shirt, on my very scent? Yes, surely.
I know no other butterfly would sit on my shirt again like today. And I can’t sure myself having this calmness just to carry her around on my walk. I was laughing, taking photos of us. I was just happy for that would happened. It’s not a comparison thinking that this moment would come back in future or this moment isn’t that glorious than that of past. This is an unique moment and that’s all about. I like her quite, and I want that she had felt safe with me even though it was a short flashy time.
I’m heading to one of my friends’ house for dinner. Today’s menu is to be a green curry and we want it spicy. I’m bringing the green curry paste with some vegetables and other will do their portion. This moment is another moment where an invisible yellow butterfly sits on somewhere imaginatory.
I had to name her, even though she didn’t give me one. So I named her emotion and it was perfectly remembered, since my emotion has been seemed invisible as she.
And yes, then, I guess those emocional moments are the magical ones of our lives.