When a Butterfly Chose the Edge of a Book

This afternoon, a butterfly wandered into my little print shop.

It didn't circle the lights.It didn't rest on the window.

Instead, it landed quietly on the trimmed edge of a copy of Nonimportantech lying on my counter.

For a moment, I forgot about customers, printers, and unfinished orders.

I simply watched.

Books are strange objects.Most people notice their covers.Some read their first pages.Very few ever think about the hundreds of hidden page edges holding an entire world inside.

The butterfly chose that quiet place.

It felt almost as if it knew that stories don't begin on the cover.They begin somewhere just beyond the edge.

Perhaps it wasn't choosing a book.

Perhaps it was choosing a possibility.

I took a photo before it flew away.

Sometimes, the smallest visitors leave the longest memories.