Swallowtail Ch. 01byktmccoll©
"You can reach me here", she says. "Leave a message. No promises," she adds.
I look down. She has written a telephone number.
It's evidently okay to speak again. "The butterfly?" I ask. "What is it?"
Then she's gone.
Back in the gallery, half of the patrons have left. I look for the woman whose husband is away but don't find her. I hope she has found someone to warm her bed.
I wave to the Rose of Sharon, who are talking to some banker type as I exit the building.
I feel the telephone number on my chest, as though I've been branded there somehow. I might call, just to see where we might go from here. Then again, I might not. I can't imagine anything that wouldn't be anticlimactic after this.
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