jed

“What a thing to do!” Said the butterfly.“ But that is what I have done and what I always will do,” replied the tiny bug. “Should it happen to me again I would have done it all the same.”“But it happens to you all the time,” said the butterfly, condescendingly. “ Don’t you ever tire of it?”“Why should I,” the tiny bug answered, trying to show his resolve. “It is the only thing that makes me happy.”“It is the only thing that makes you happy…” repeated the butterfly. “Well if it does,”“It does!”“If it makes you happy, Sheryl the Crow said, then it can’t be that bad.” The butterfly said. She then flapped her graceful wings and flew away to the nearest flower, eager for more gossip.The bug sighed. The leaf was huge and he was a long way from the tip, the designated take-off point. But he knew he can’t fly as gracefully as the butterfly.“If it makes me happy, then why the hell am I so sad?” he told himself as he almost prepared to fly. Then suddenly, a big, black bird dove and swallowed him whole. The bird then set her eyes to the butterfly floating carelessly at the nearby gumamela bush.