🦋

Back then, butterflies.

Armies of them.
Untrained. Overconfident.

They mistook adrenaline for destiny.
They arrived early.
They stayed too long.
They made a lot of unnecessary suggestions.

Then, for a while, nothing.

No fluttering.
No echo.

Just a calm room.
A chair.
A window doing its job.

No one was heartbroken.
Nothing had gone wrong.

Some chapters simply close without applause.

And apparently, butterflies don’t disappear forever.

They come back differently.

Fewer this time.
Better organized.

They wait.
They observe.
They seem to understand context.

They don’t ask for guarantees.
They don’t wave red flags.

These days, the butterflies arrive quietly and take notes.