Perfect

(I was feeling pretty down when I wrote this. Forgive me.)

The sun is out, but there are enough clouds to prevent one from getting skin cancer. Children are playing outside – not one of them is crying. The neighbors are having a cookout – potluck, so nobody gets left out.

Even the birds are singing in that insanely Snow White way of theirs.

It is a beautiful day in suburbia, Rick muses, looking out his window.

A butterfly comes fluttering in, carried by the soft breeze. He extends his hand out, and there it is, the beautiful creature, perched on his finger.

He sighs softly.

It is the perfect day to disappear.

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