the butterfly Angel-Clare Linton, April 19, 2024 My bedroom door is closed.My walls are painted light purple.There’s a dark grey storm outside my window.People are on the sidewalk. My laptop sits in front of me—I sit on my bedwith YouTube as background noise, like a podcast. The white background of Scrivener bounces back at me,making me look fairer than normal.I painted the document with black letters,like an alphabet. My window is opened, and the breeze floats in. My room is warmbut wants to be consumed by the cool air encapsulatedby the wings of freedom. Once upon a time, a prince was looking for his princess. The glimmer is still here, where my greatest story is starting with: a shimmering poem that sits on a wooden chair. That’s what they say—that all great stories start at the beginning, that is.And this is where my story begins. Related Multimedia