Muse 127: the masked butterfly

 butterflies part II

I leaned down to cradle the butterfly in my hands, before I noticed it's crafty body. The center of it was nothing like its wings, the most beautiful part. In fact it was fuzzy, covered in little spikes that mirrored it's caterpillar form. Its eyes were small and invisible, black piercings while the rest of the body was section like two rotten sausages. Completely horrified by how it looked up close, I got up, dusted my hands, crushing the butterfly into the sand as I walked away.

Muse 125: glass cases

found via becylouise

They'll put us in museums one day.

For what?

Well, for changing the world, Frankie. We're going to change the world.

You make us sound like Pinky and the Brain.

He smiled. Hah, well it's easier now. We'll do it one follower at a time.

Hm.

What, you don't believe me?

I don't know. I always thought the people they put in museums didn't think they were important. Like artists... like Monet, Van Gogh. The other people, they put in magazines.