Monday, February 26, 2007


His mother was a Moth. His dad to be, a mix-breed flea named Myth, buggered the flighty, sexy insect and what did you except? He egged her on. She responded to Myth's dither. After he shafter she ate a leaf, he smoked a reef. Together they had a catterfeller.

Of course, before Mommy Moth's bug was born he was just an egg, sleeping in a cockcoon. In the merry month of June, he awoke all alone in the morning after rafter. With one fell swoop, Mommy Moth flew the coop with Father Myth. Catterfeller became a fullblown, grown specious species known as Mothflea scientifically.

Baby Mothflea stretched and kvetched, felt an itch in his back. He scratched and, natch, that was no itch that bugged the bug. It was the start of things called wings he'd need to flit about. The catterfeller became a flutterfly with brand new wings, his mind filled with things like food and insectual satisfaction. And what did he see find fluttering by? A beautiful newborn creamy, dreamy butterfly. His flapping wings caught her eye. They both seemed to know the way to go and flew to a vacant leaf faster than a fly can fly. She laid her egg, built a cockcoon, then sipped nectar while he necked her and they knew their deed was done. In one last breath before death Myth kissed Moth. "Short, but sweet, my sweet," he said. Moth turned to Myth. "A job well "A job well done," she replied. And then they died.

They live reborn, on high in the sky in a place reserved for those who served their worth on Earth. They left behind a son, part flea, part moth, who dreamed that in his future life he would become a Butterfly.


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