(no subject)

[huey]

In my dreams you held a butterfly. If you hold any insect too closely you risk damaging its wings, crippling the animal forever. But the sky was filled with red birds, and you said that one butterfly wouldn't make a jot of difference, one way or another.

I can still hear the beating of its wings.

It is time, my friends, to grant Huey Laforet access to your journals.