Princess of Butterfly Street
A princess lived on Butterfly Street. You don't have to believe it. I wouldn't believe it either if somebody had told me, but, still, she lived there.
Almost every day as I walked home nearby, I saw her there. Her room had enormously large windows. Behind one of them, there stood her secretaire looking like a school desk. Usually, she sat there writing her homework, with her golden, curly hair and a turned up nose. Actually, I would say that even if she were bald and potato-nosed. But she wasn't.
Sometimes she pondered intently. That was when she worked on her math homework.
Sometimes she read dreamily. That was when she learned poems.
Sometimes she scribbled gaily. That was when she practiced drawing.
Drawing was her favorite. She drew houses, trains, airplanes, sun, moon, stars, dogs, and cats. But her most favorite was drawing butterflies. Butterflies of every colour and every pattern. Butterflies of golden wings with silver stripes. Purple butterflies with diamond stars. Butterflies in all colors of the day, of the night, of the sea, of the sky, of the flower garden, and of the rainbow.
You may think that there were plenty of butterflies on Butterfly Street. In that case, you would be very wrong. There weren't any more butterflies on Butterfly Street, than there were windmills on Windmill Street or forests on Forest Street. Maybe somewhat more than apostles on Apostle Street. To make a long story short: there weren't many butterflies on Butterfly Street. Nonetheless, whenever the princess went to play in the garden – and this happened quite often – a butterfly always flew on her nose. The princess then always blew the air up toward her nose – just try to do that yourself! – and then the butterfly flew beside her and fluttered around her in the garden.
It wasn't at all the same butterfly flying to the nose of the princess, but each time another. Ones of various colors and various patterns. These butterflies were later drawn by the princess.
If you thought that the princess had an easy task, since all she had to do was to draw the magnificent butterflies fluttering around her, then you wouldn’t be right. The princess often played with her girlfriends and boyfriends in the garden, but they never saw the butterflies. No doubt, they never tried to blow the air up toward their noses.
Butterflies have some close relatives. For example, skippers and moths. They are similar but not the same. For instance, Skipper Street is exactly on the opposite end of the city from Butterfly Street. Butterfly Street can be reached by bus, while you have to take the underground to get to Skipper Street. Well, it of course depends on where you are starting from. If you start at Skipper Street, don't take the underground by any means to get there. How curious and strange it is, isn't it?
One day, as usual, I walked home on Butterfly Street and I was struck by what I saw: a huge moving truck stood in front of the house where the princess lived. Burly men loaded the truck with furnitures. When I reached the house, they had just lifted the princess’ secretaire, which looked like a school desk, into the truck.
I understood that I'd never see the princess again, but I wasn't too sad. I was aware that the princess could be happier in a country which is a kingdom, and Butterfly Street wasn't in such a country. Most likely she moved to a country which is a kingdom, for example, to Sweden.
Maybe, there will also be more butterflies there than on Butterfly Street. But it doesn’t matter if not. Our princess simply has to blow the air up toward her nose – you’ve tried it, show us how to do it! – and, all at once, the colorful butterflies will be fluttering around her to offer themselves for drawing.
Try it yourself!
A princess lived on Butterfly Street. You don't have to believe it. I wouldn't believe it either if somebody had told me, but, still, she lived there.
Almost every day as I walked home nearby, I saw her there. Her room had enormously large windows. Behind one of them, there stood her secretaire looking like a school desk. Usually, she sat there writing her homework, with her golden, curly hair and a turned up nose. Actually, I would say that even if she were bald and potato-nosed. But she wasn't.
Sometimes she pondered intently. That was when she worked on her math homework.
Sometimes she read dreamily. That was when she learned poems.
Sometimes she scribbled gaily. That was when she practiced drawing.
Drawing was her favorite. She drew houses, trains, airplanes, sun, moon, stars, dogs, and cats. But her most favorite was drawing butterflies. Butterflies of every colour and every pattern. Butterflies of golden wings with silver stripes. Purple butterflies with diamond stars. Butterflies in all colors of the day, of the night, of the sea, of the sky, of the flower garden, and of the rainbow.
You may think that there were plenty of butterflies on Butterfly Street. In that case, you would be very wrong. There weren't any more butterflies on Butterfly Street, than there were windmills on Windmill Street or forests on Forest Street. Maybe somewhat more than apostles on Apostle Street. To make a long story short: there weren't many butterflies on Butterfly Street. Nonetheless, whenever the princess went to play in the garden – and this happened quite often – a butterfly always flew on her nose. The princess then always blew the air up toward her nose – just try to do that yourself! – and then the butterfly flew beside her and fluttered around her in the garden.
It wasn't at all the same butterfly flying to the nose of the princess, but each time another. Ones of various colors and various patterns. These butterflies were later drawn by the princess.
If you thought that the princess had an easy task, since all she had to do was to draw the magnificent butterflies fluttering around her, then you wouldn’t be right. The princess often played with her girlfriends and boyfriends in the garden, but they never saw the butterflies. No doubt, they never tried to blow the air up toward their noses.
Butterflies have some close relatives. For example, skippers and moths. They are similar but not the same. For instance, Skipper Street is exactly on the opposite end of the city from Butterfly Street. Butterfly Street can be reached by bus, while you have to take the underground to get to Skipper Street. Well, it of course depends on where you are starting from. If you start at Skipper Street, don't take the underground by any means to get there. How curious and strange it is, isn't it?
One day, as usual, I walked home on Butterfly Street and I was struck by what I saw: a huge moving truck stood in front of the house where the princess lived. Burly men loaded the truck with furnitures. When I reached the house, they had just lifted the princess’ secretaire, which looked like a school desk, into the truck.
I understood that I'd never see the princess again, but I wasn't too sad. I was aware that the princess could be happier in a country which is a kingdom, and Butterfly Street wasn't in such a country. Most likely she moved to a country which is a kingdom, for example, to Sweden.
Maybe, there will also be more butterflies there than on Butterfly Street. But it doesn’t matter if not. Our princess simply has to blow the air up toward her nose – you’ve tried it, show us how to do it! – and, all at once, the colorful butterflies will be fluttering around her to offer themselves for drawing.
Try it yourself!