June Writing Prompts: Bug

Yes, I know. Every time I say I am going to do a challenge, I start out strong and then flame out.

I will do my best to follow through. That is all I can promise.

I was on my Insta looking at pictures when I saw the sight in the caption advertise their writing prompts for June.
I figured it couldn’t hurt to give it a shot. After all, between the hubby going owner-operator, moving all of our belongings into a new semi, and having to settle into a new truck, not to mention other problems with inspiration and feeling that I piled on too much crap again, I haven’t been writing at all.

Shame on me. So, without further ado, I will take on the first prompt of the month: bug.

Of all the times to meet him here.

Beatrice thought to herself as she landed on a brightly colored flower. The turquoise of her wings caught the morning light as she sipped at the nectar.

A small boy was wandering in the flower garden with a net as she had her meal. She stopped her wings from opening.

I hope the human doesn’t see me.

The boys brown eyes scanned the flowers. He started at the furthest point away from Beatrice and slowly took in all the buds, creeping vines, and fully bloomed flowers. The rainbow of color always gave him trouble.

Can’t see anyfing. Why did momma have to have so many flowers in the yard?

Beatrice tried to hurry and was just about finished when she heard, “GOTCHA!” She frantically flapped her wings to realize she could gain altitude. She turned and fluttered in place just long enough to see the boy had caught a monarch butterfly.

“Not another one of these. I have three already.” He stomped as he shook the met releasing the butterfly, I want the pretty blue one! I can’t ever catch it!”

Beatrice heard an older, female voice from the large structure in the garden, “Roy, honey, I keep telling you that you have to be patient. You always hop on the first butterfly you see. Look to your left, dear.”

Roy turned to the left and locked onto Beatrice. She did all she could to maneuver away from the boy.

This is a nightmare. I haven’t seen a single one of my friends come out of that box alive! Everyone that he has caught in the web of his has never returned to the flowers! I can’t let him get me!

Roy picked up his pace.

I gotta get there before it fwies to high for me to catch!

Beatrice fluttered her wings and the flower she had landed on not long ago was shrinking but not as fast as she would like to shrink. The boy was getting closer. She tried with all her might to make the flower shrink more, but the white net barely snared her.

That’s it. I am going where my friends went. No more flowers.

“Yay! I caught it, mama!”

“Good job, Roy! Bring it in so we can put it with the other ones.”

Beatrice froze, afraid to move.

Where is he taking me? I want to be back in the garden? I don’t like this web.

Roy made his way down the hall to his father who was waiting for him to turn over the butterfly.

“Good job, son. You caught a Blue Morpho this time.”

Roy’s face lit up the room, “Yup! Can we put with the others, dad?”

“Yes, let’s.”

They walked to the other end of the house and into an enclosed atrium. His father stopped and turned, “Okay, Roy, open the net slowly. Let’s see if we can put her on this flower over here.”

Beatrice began to look around confused. There were flowers and small trees here. She began to see her friends who had disappeared. They were fluttering and feeding on the flowers. There was a brief bout of darkness that made her lay still, and then she smelled something familiar-a flower like the one on which she was feeding.
She slowly opened her wings and closed them again and repeated the action.

Roy’s father, content with the outcome, motioned for his son to follow him out of the butterfly enclosure.

“Tomorrow, we will go to the other side of the garden. We have a lot of work to do before the blight reaches us, and don’t want the butterflies to die, do we?”

Roy shook his head.

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