Deidra Alexander's Blog

Maybelle collected butterflies (warning if you have a pet butterfly, stop reading). She had a lovely collection on the wall behind her desk, close to thirty.

The collection was so varied no two were the same colors.

It was a lovely day in spring.

One day I was asking her a question, “When are we going to take the V22 out for a test run, I want to shot some missiles?” A breeze came through the open door on my right, bringing with it the smell of the Chesapeake Bay. Everything faded around me. I was hardly listening anymore.

“We don’t have any tests scheduled until next month…”

I was lost in early spring. Maybelle had added another butterfly to her collection. It was pale yellow with bright blue on the tail.

“… and we’re not testing missiles.”

Then the wing flipped. I jumped, blinking. That can’t be right. It’s wing flipped again.  Oh no.  It wasn’t still alive!

Oh yes it was. Maybelle had caught a butterfly at lunch and pinned it to the wall.

I never crossed Maybelle after that.  She was a butterfly hit man and I didn’t want her turning to humans.