“Snapshots, moments, mere seconds: as fragile and beautiful and hopeless as a single butterfly, flapping on against a gathering wind.”
“If that moment had been a real thing, it would've been a butterfly, flapping and fluttering toward the sun.”
“One second. A snapshot of fear and sweat and blood.”
“Hope was a fragile flicker that he wanted to cup with both hands to protect against the harsh winds of reality.”
“Sulphurous wind gusted in his wake; the dust of the street swirled and the folds of his black coat flapped against his thin body.”
“The butterflies I get every time we’re together, are flapping their wings as fast as a hummingbird’s.”