MONday Blues

The palace was as cold as ice. Yet somehow a beautiful purple butterfly had made its way in, blocking my path.

Father was on his throne, waiting for me. My white wings draped across the floor, tired from the wear and tear of my time in the lower dimensions.

“Why the long face, child?” He asked with an outstretched hand.

“It’s Monday.”

“And?”

“Well, I don’t know, it’s something the humans always said.”

He chuckled. “The humans. You’ve really taken a liking to them huh?”

“I guess that’s what you’d call it, right father?”

“I don’t know what I would call it dear. But you have a choice to make today. Would you like to stay here in the palace? Or go back there and keep helping them?”

I rose my head to the ceiling, contemplating. The butterfly made its way back to me, landing perched on my right shoulder. It’s tiny wings flapped gently, as if nudging me to make a decision.

“I’m not sure yet, Father. For now, just let me rest please?”

“Fine. Get your rest. But you can’t sit still forever. You help us here, or you help them there. No idleness,” he pointed at me. “You got that?”

I nodded and walked back to my bedroom, the butterfly still perched on my shoulder.


Thank you for reading—oh and happy Monday! 💙💜

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