Sitting on the cold and damp ground she hugged the tombstone tight... tighter than the lump in her throat. Tears streamed down her face, a face lined with fatigue and sorrow, deep , heart wrenching sorrow.
The butter flies flew all over her, some sat on her face , even on her lips, they were beautiful, of myriad colours and they were all happy and soft. They were always happy as she was their keeper, the small patch of kitchen garden in her backyard got converted into a heaven for butterflies, neither he, nor her or the butterflies realised the transformation, they were all caught up in the beauty of those beautiful flowers blooming all around which in turn had the butterflies multiplying on the mulberry tree and the small green apple tree with it's branches full of heady apple blossoms.
A huge drop of rain awakened her, she was still clinging to the tombstone, cold and hard, feelingless and nothing like the warm, funny and laughing Tom she knew... the butterflies that she just dreamed of were still there at her place where she now lived alone. Once in a while a butterfly sat on her lips reminding her of Tom and the first kiss that they shared, soft and fleeting....but unforgettable.