The Words of a Dying Flame

Ages ago in a forest not far from here lived two butterfly sisters. One was bigger and had brighter colours that used to be admired by her fellow insects while the younger, while just as beautiful was often ignored by all except her parents. Though she wanted others to also admire her like they did her sister, she was ignored and often despised for her pale comparison to her elder sibling. As such, she grew to hate her. The older one, with such love and admiration, didn’t take long to be self-conceited and vain, on top of being mean to her younger sibling. Often when she would see her trying to spread her wings in an attempt to impress others, she would laugh so hard that she attracted the attention of others, who would also join in mocking her. This happened so much that one insect asked, “Was her beauty hidden from her?” From that day on, she was referred to as the ‘Hidden beauty.’ Fed up of her constant comparison and degradation, she asked her sister to help her. “Deare...

The night air was chilly and the moon’s light paled in comparison to the bright orange street lights that illuminated the neighborhood. With no sound of dogs barking, crickets singing, I could have sworn I walked into an episode of the Twilight Zone. Everyone was tucked away in their beds, save for an elderly man seated on the sidewalk, puffing away his cigarette, seemingly in deep thought. For his age, who wouldn’t be? I went to him and asked why he was up so late at night, but he laughed at me and replied. “Boy, it’s quite safe around here.” “What makes you say that?” “I’m sure of it.” “How can you be?” “When was the last time you ever heard of a mugging or even a death in these parts? Hmm?” I thought about it for a while, then shrugged. He stared at me for a while and asked me to have a seat right next to him. So, I did. He continued puffing large quantities of smoke that rose in the yellow glow of the street lights and disappeared into the dark sky, looking ...