Seven is my number of power. I’m not sure why. Some mystical significance in an ancient spell long forgotten. Some random number chosen by my mentor, long since departed this earthly plane. Who knows why we adopt certain attributes and habits. But butterflies, I have no trouble understanding their significance and power….and I now have seven butterflies fluttering in a cage. Where is that spell book.
- two tablespoons of honey
- one tablespoon of brown sugar
- 7 oz. of brandy
- seven large lettuce leafs cut into bite size pieces
- mix ingredients thoroughly
- seven butterflies
I opened the cage carefully and reached inside waiting patiently for a butterfly to flutter to my finger. My patience rewarded I quickly withdrew my finger towards the cage door and swallowed that delicate creature. I felt a slight tickle as the butterfly eased down my throat. Reaching for the spell mixture I poured the required one seventh into a glass and savored the sweet taste embalming the butterfly. Waiting for a reaction and feeling none I continued this process six more times. Now for the words. Not written down but ingrained in my memory for all time.
No sooner were these words spoken when silken thread began spiraling from my body wrapping it in a tight embrace. The cocooning process had begun. From a dream like haze I was aware of my body dissolving as enzymes were released and new cells started reproducing. I blacked out somewhere in this process and came to some time later bounding with energy. The metamorphosis was complete. Running to the mirror I stared back at the young vibrant figure and extended my arms to the heavens in triumph. It had worked beautifully once again. Nine hundred years of regeneration on such a simple formula. I thanked the seven butterflies for their sacrifice and took a shower to erase the sticky reminders of immortality. A new adventure starts tomorrow. I can’t wait to get started.