Her Tiger Butterfly… a short story

Intense look from his eyes caused Brigitte to peek over her shoulders. No one there, except the wall.

“The gentleman from the symposium.” “Of course, it couldn’t be me that he is admiring.”Β  “No one notices wallflowers or do they?”

Mama despairs that she would be left on the shelf.

”Don’t slouch Brigitte!” ”Wear a smile, you shouldn’t scowl so much!”

Auntie Agatha tut-tutted at her bumbling attempts at playing the piano, violin or knitting.

”Don’t frighten off possibilities with too much knowledge of tomes, ruins, horses and butterflies.”
”Men do not appreciate too much intelligence her sage counsel.”

Tired of no dance, a breath of fresh air is required. A flitting moth of unusual colour catches her eyes and she ventures to discover; new addition to my glossary she thinks.

Over voluminous skirts she trips into the Rose bush.

Strong arms encircle to help her up as she mouths her thanks into intense gray eyes.

Unwittingly, she has captured her own Tiger butterfly.

Β© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

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In response to the FFfAW photo prompt above. Thank you TJParis for the photo and Priceless Joy for this challenge platform.

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33 thoughts on “Her Tiger Butterfly… a short story

    • Kobi my dear, thank you for your encouragement. Some of the stories have word limits, so I have to fit in what I can, but as time goes on, I am going to complete some of them for the pleasure of my dear friends like you πŸ™‚ Kind regards.

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I love it when you decorate my heart with your words..

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