On a warm Sunday afternoon, my wife guides me into the porch for some fresh air. I feel as small refreshing breeze as I sit down and take in the warmth of this hot day. Taking a deep breath I can smell the burning hot asphalt as cars drive through the neighborhood. Children run down the street laughing joyfully, chasing each other most likely. Teenagers walk on the sidewalk dribbling basketballs, the bouncing sound echoes against pavement as they laugh and share stories about girls. When I hear the birds tweeting I am certain that today is a typical summer morning in the suburbs.
My wife joins me in the porch, taking a seat next to me. She takes a deep breath and holds my hand as we both enjoy the morning. Suddenly, I tense as I feel goose bumps running up my right arm and realize a moth rests in my arm.
“There’s a moth in my arm” I tell my wife.
“Yes, there is” she responds. “It’s beautiful.”
“Tell me more”
“Well, its wings are electric blue and they shade to black in the corners. Right now its flapping its wings peacefully. How’s that honey?”
“Beautiful, I see it” I said as I tightened my grip around my wife’s hand and the moth flew away. Now I could really see how beautiful this morning really was.
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