B is for Butterfly Brooch
Today I have written a short story with this butterfly brooch as the inspiration. Also I tried to use B words to celebrate the letter B.
I was hanging out at Brenda’s Diner while my wife Barb went to have her hair done. My blank laptop screen awaited my brilliant blog post And waited...and waited...
I bit into my lightly buttered breakfast bagel when I heard a clink behind me. I bent down and picked up a beaded butterfly brooch that glowed and twinkled in my hand.
The butterfly came to life and flew up to the ceiling, a swirl of rainbow-like colours. A flash of light blinded me and I found myself in a shimmering forest by the banks of a babbling brook. Morning sun bathed the branches in a soft golden light. Any moment I expected to see Bambi and his buddies appear through the bushes.
“Hi there, Barney,” a sultry voice said and I looked around in bewilderment. A beautiful buxom blonde girl in a bikini beamed at me.
“How do you know my name?” I asked.
“I’m Bunny. I know all about you.”
“Is this some kind of joke? How did I get here?” I could feel my face reddening as it always did when I got embarrassed.
“Relax, Barney,” Bunny said, brushing her fingers against my cheek and blowing in my ear. “Bunny will make it all better.”
“Is this for real?” I said, blinking my eyes in disbelief. I closed my eyes and sighed in contentment as Bunny massaged my brow.
“There you are!” a loud voice penetrated my reverie. I was back in the restaurant, the butterfly brooch still in my hand.
Barb frowned at me, her grey hair in tight poodle curls. I didn’t dare tell her it looked better before.
“Where did you get that brooch?” she asked.
“I found it on the floor,” I said, looking at it in confusion.
“What’s the matter with you, Barney? Did you forget to take your medication again?”
“No, it’s just that...” I looked at the brooch and said nothing.
“Honestly, Barney. You’re losing it. I’ll bring the car and meet you outside in ten minutes. Can you manage that?”
I just nodded in agreement. I had learned long ago not to argue with Barb.
As I packed up the laptop, I put the brooch down on the counter by the cash.
On my way out, I bumped against a woman coming in.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized.
“No harm done, Handsome,” I looked up and met eyes with the older woman. I could tell she’d been a looker in her younger days. A real babe. Something about her sure seemed familiar.
I looked back in disbelief to see her take the brooch off the counter and pin it to her coat. She saw me looking and winked at me. It was Bunny.