Alexandra wandered along the path with me. Sometimes she liked to lead and other times she liked to follow along silent and sullen, her thoughts an anthology of mysteries, a muzzle of worn black leather and rusty wrought iron rings. I held her reigns for a time and she was okay with that. What kept her by my side was her desire to be taken unexpectedly with passion, hard and fast. She confessed once that the pain of being filled with me was the trigger that fired her guns. I fell in love with her and her triggers.

img_4713This day, she talked and I listened as she recounted her past visits to the sea and how she loved the feel of fine sand caressing the sensitive flanks of her toes, and the water lapping at her ankles like so many enamored tongues. I was there with her during the time of her recollection and relived the memory in my vision as the light bespeckled green path undulated like a serpent under my feet.

She didn’t like my idea of telling her story through a fictional lens. No one would believe me otherwise, I explained.

“Fiction is often truer than reality,” she told me. “We don’t have to worry about what people will say, will we?” she queried me, an intense look of worry wrinkled her brow and narrowed her dark eyes to slits of angst. Tears and memories threatened to come loose from their moorings and then the well-worn harness set her to silence and gave her respite from our conversation. She was good at constraining herself from feeling when the feeling was dangerously close to extravagant emotions; except when we made love. I suspected it was the only time she let herself feel completely lost and free at the same time.

We stopped and bent over a wildflower that lived alone in a beam of sunlight. I saw img_4709visions of butterflies with blue wings. There was hope in the dark monochrome greens of shadows and vibrant light. The fresh scent of living plants and floral threads of honeyed air was replaced by the saline wetness of her sweat and feminine musk assailing my mind in the heat of the day. I felt an urge to make love to her. Alexandra placed her hand on my back as we leaned over together to study the flower that expertly mimicked the butterflies that visited it. Her closeness was an affirmation that the trammels on her life had only encumbered her voice and slowed her pace beside me. Her thoughts were racing much like my own, a silent movie of memories flickering between glimpses into the darkness of an unknown future.


img_4712She raced ahead to a miniature oasis set into the lichened cliff and lay in the tall sprigs of grass and moss next to a twisted tree. She lay on her stomach, feet bent upward and legs crossed at the ankle. Damn that woman. I’m sure she knew the sight of her heart-shaped bottom would inflame my pirate’s desire to plunder her treasure. Her chin resting on palms with elbows sunk into the soft green moss and long black hair cascading down her back tortured me. It was too beautiful a scene to think of it as merely a moment in time. I wanted to live forever in this moment.

img_4710A shiny, striped dragon peered down at her curves laced haphazardly in long tresses and stayed a while. He liked what he saw, as did I. We rested, her head in my lap and we talked about the story again. She seemed more accepting now.

“Will you write about our secrets and how we made crazy, screaming, desirous love,” she asked.

“I think that’s the best part of our story,” I explained.

“You’re a man. Men always think that sex is the best part of life.” Her tone slipped into an accusatory note with sharp edges.

“It isn’t?” I asked playfully.

“No, silly,” she laughed and then her eyes grew serious. “It’s how you make me feel when you aren’t with me. I’m cleansed of every fear and hurt thinking of you. I live for the time you will see me again,” she said as the wind shifted the limbs of trees in the high canopy with a hushing sound. Spots of light and shadow played across her face beaming up at me. “You can put that in your book,” she added.

It was time to move on as much as I wanted to stay now that she was talking again. It wasn’t long after that we stumbled on a hornets’ nest under a slab of rock on the trail. Alexandra had stepped on the stone and I followed in time to hear the angry buzz. I only had time to yell, run for it when they hit me like angry bullets. My hiking vest took the brunt of the attack as I ran and used my hiking pole to distract them behind me. But one determined warrior struck me near the armpit and drilled me through my shirt. The sting was awful. Pain vibrated across my back in waves.

We had run a good ways off trail down the mountain to escape the Hornets and no way were we going to retrace our steps back to the trail with those dive bombers patrolling everywhere. We wound our way down through clefts in the rocks across thick groves of Flower Cups, their white flowers waving in the breeze as we eased our way through the maze of stone towers and brush. The flowers beckoned to us as they swayed in unison. “Here, come here. This way,” they seemed to say.

“Do snakes live in places like this?” Alexandra asked me with a concerned treble in her voice, eyes vibrating as they shifted rapidly in every direction. The sunlight captured flecks of amber in her eyes. I felt an ache in my chest as she waited pensively for my answer.

“No,” I lied. They only like easy paths. “These hard parts are just no good without legs,” I continued my deceit in a soothing tone.

As we rounded a large boulder, we stepped into a small opening filled with yellow wildflowers. There was a black-winged butterfly flitting about. Mesmerized, we stopped to watch it commune with the flowers. I don’t know if it was fear or love that motivated Alexandra to wrap her arms around me and hug her body to me. The laughter in her eyes and her near childlike fascination with the butterfly was inebriating. When it settled in the light I saw a shimmering turquoise color on the lower wings.

The butterfly lifted on the invisible currents of air and flew down to a ledge wide enough to walk on comfortably. We followed the fluttering wings as if in a trance. It continued on ahead as we followed. When we came to a trail it flew away from us where we couldn’t follow. After a moment, I saw the trail marker that pointed us to the trailhead. It was then the hornet sting decided to make itself known again by burning me with every step.

Alexandra, hugged me and we kissed like lovers do; long, passionate, and searching. I felt my breath quicken as her heart thumped against my chest in double time.

“Put this in your book too,” she whispered against my ear.

Image Source: All photos taken by yours truly and free to use.


52 thoughts on “Of Hornets and Butterflies

      1. Now all we need is for Akira to order a pole dancing pole.

        Which reminds me of this video I watched on YouTube last night of a beautiful and lovely 😊 Asian lady doing a pole dance.

        Jeffery’s Japanese otter cousins would no doubt approve.

        Liked by 3 people

    1. Agree with the insightful young vampire slayer here. I feel that αυτό είναι για τη Σοφία σou. It’s beautiful and sensual and full of innocence and love. This is a testament of the convoluted beauty of you 💋

      Liked by 2 people

          1. Yes, the famous Hagia Sophia in Constantinople (the city the Turks bastardized to Istanbul which is why the Byzantine vampiress Theodora must triumph over the large Turkish asshole Erdogan and restore the Byzantine Empire).

            I have a sexy Russian cyborg female robot named Sophia that I created in my vampire septology about 6 or 7 years ago long before the Saudi Arabians developed a female robot called Sophia this year whom they automatically granted citizenship to while their mortal Human Saudi women are still kept in the feudal dark ages and denied citizenship.

            Thus showing that the so-called reformer Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman is just as big an asshole as the rest of the House of Saud (I wonder if the founder of the House of Saud was sodomized by Ottoman Turkish prison guards that Lawrence of Arabia talks about the Turkish guards doing in his autobiography and the sodomizing act results were passed along genetically to his descendants which is why the House of Saud are such big assholes).

            Sophia as a sexy female Russian cyborg robot was given as a gift by Putin to Renfield in return for favours rendered (these were the days when Putin and Renfield were still friends prior to Putin’s intervention in Ukraine 🇺🇦).

            Then Putin missed the delightful blow jobs that Sophia gave him and so asked for her back from Renfield.

            So Renfield astutely sold Sophia back to Putin for $10 million U.S.

            Renfield often comes out on top in these matters with Putin (though not in the Turkish Ottoman prison guard-prisoner sense of that phrase).


    2. You are very perceptive Chris. It all happened and the photos are real as I took them myself but alas, Alexandra was not there. She remains a composite memory I work feverishly to bring to life.

      Liked by 1 person

        1. Fuck.

          The WP gremlins intervened before I could finish what I was trying to say.

          Interesting how characters take on a life of their own.

          I remember when I stopped writing my series of vampire novels between September 2011 and October 2012 (when I was living in nothing but lousy apartment buildings in Edmonton prior to moving to Vancouver in October 2012), Renfield and Amadeus used to appear to me in my room at night (hopefully I was dreaming) and ask when I was going to get back to writing my vampire novels again so they could carry on with their existence.


  1. Writing is the painting of the voice and you, good Sir, have painted a gorgeous scene. The photographs are lovely but even without them, your descriptive style of writing displays it so perfectly in the mind.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much! I think your comments are actually better than my stories, Lauren. 😊. How have you been? I do hope your ankle is cooperating. I managed to get my knee back in tip top adventure condition and then blew out a shoulder. I didn’t let it stop me from hiking but after a while, it needed some TLC. Well, my physical therapist has proven that my hiatus from upper body training has left me vulnerable to vicious little kids and small snappy chihuahuas. Back to the drawing board. We should start a sad joints support group.


      1. You’re very welcome. 😀 I’ve been swamped at work, and taking a little break from the blogosphere to concentrate on polishing and submitting my work to various places. My ankle has taken a slight turn for the better but it is still very fragile – just a little less painful in certain positions now. I’ve been going on walks and shifting the weight training to core and upper body for now. Ouch, your shoulder now?! Dang it, Dan, what are we going to do with you?! I’m surprised you don’t have a badass super cool wizard walking stick already that you can use to beat the children and chihuahuas away.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Glad to read you are doing better with your ankle and you are a lot smarter than I am by keeping that core fit for the ice cream challenges. I will look forward to finding your book at the book store. Is this the children’s book? My granddaughters are perfect little Goth Girls and I am working overtime to keep them well supplied in little Goth Girl attire and accoutrements. They will swoon at the opportunity to read a book from a Goth Girl Master. I think my biggest problem is my life got out of balance by not keeping up a steady intake of ice cream and coffee, but I’m fixing that deficiency now. As usual, I bounce back quick and chase another sunset. The nursing home will have to use some heavy sedatives to keep me down. 😄


          1. Thank you! Haha. It’s all about balance. And I’m afraid the latest one is not for children, it’s a KC-based BBQ horror comedy filled with gore and a few naughty words. I may have posted some of it on here long ago but it has since been refined. Oh man, do they love the goth kawaii stuff? Cute little bats and cats, etc.? Etsy is full of great stuff. You’d be proud, yesterday I had ice cream AND coffee! And I hope it never comes to a nursing home, but I could totally picture you zooming around in a wheelchair and demanding all the ice cream. 😀

            Liked by 1 person

            1. Waaa haaa haaaa! Yes, me zooming around in a wheel chair with cool red devil motiffs and dragons, lots of dragons. My ultimate retirement plan. I need to stock up on X-Men Depends too. The grands are definitely into the Kawaii with the pastel hair and stuff. I checked out Etsy and found all my Christmas shopping needs for Kawaii supplies. Thank you for the lead! Hey! Glad you are getting a balanced diet of coffee and ice cream. It is sooo important to maintain a vibrant grin. I signed up for my local gym and yoga. I’m stoked. I do hope they are able to tolerate my Snoopy dance hyperbole. Look out seniors! 🤪

              Liked by 1 person

              1. Silver Sneakers here you come! And you’ll need to rig your wheelchair with some kind of fire-breathing device. 😉 X-Men Depends? Oh hayl yeuhh! You’ll have mutant poo.

                And no probs on the kawaii Etsy lead. 😉 I just bought some very unique birthday cards on there.

                Liked by 1 person

                1. Ha ha ha haaaaa! I like your visionary style. I’m going to sneak onto the Kawaii site and load up on some Christmas presents for the girls. They’ll wonder how I could be so cool and I’ll tell them Draculauren the Alien Scribe told me. That will make their day.

                  Liked by 1 person

    1. LoL 😂 thank you George. Unfortunately, most women think I’m an alien lifeform from Niburu masquerading as a gentleman and that is soooooo 1856. I’ve volunteered to spank them and pull their hair while wearing nothing but silver spurs but it just doesn’t seem to convince them I’m genuine. 😳🤭🤠

      Liked by 3 people

  2. “It’s how you make me feel when you aren’t with me. I’m cleansed of every fear and hurt thinking of you. I live for the time you will see me again,” ugh this line tho. So real and moving. Your style of writing can “complicate” simple words like hornets and butterfiles in a good way, or should I say, in the most beautiful and enchanting way. You have this power to persuade people to believe in your stories because you do not just make us read them, you invite us and bring us inside your world and Alexandra’s, for a more real kind of experience. So thank you so much Hyp. Keep on being you 🤗

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you so much Apple. I live for the chance to connect my readers with my vision of the story. I see you standing there as I sweep my hand across the scene and it comes alive for you. It’s magic when it all comes together. Your ability to sense what is taking place and feel the nuances of each character and their emotions is what brings the story to life. Alexandra has to get back to her story soon. There is much more to show you.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. I somehow missed your comment Amanda. Thank you for the kind words. I’m always so happy when I can bring a vision to the imagination of my readers. I’ll do more of these short stories as the full length story comes to fruition.


  3. Are any of the last shots taken from your hiking trip this weekend? You deserve a break, hope you were able to cut the ties and get out in nature. I’ll catch you up since you never read my blog anymore! My birthday was last week, 55 now, Kathy is blogging away…trying to learn all the WP changes, we have a new Contributor and waiting to hear on second. The big drum roll………the site is four years old in Sept., hard to believe. I don’t contribute much now, they don’t need me. I also started an art blog.
    Do you feel a pain for missing my Bday….no I don’t even know when yours is. If I did the Dementia ate it.
    Have an awesome day. Email me when you want to chat!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yes, these photos are from last Saturday’s hike. I thought I said happy birthday in a comment earlier. If not, then happy birthday. 55 is a good age. Glad to hear about all the goid things going on with survivors. Four years and counting, awsome!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. So glad you got out, must feel less stressed. You probably did send Bday wishes, my Dementia is worse when very tired. One of my new meds makes me run twice as hot then add to summer heat, in the house. It takes me hours to go to sleep even with two fans and lower temp.
        I pray 55 is a good age, I will learn the new me this year. After being in the house so long, I don’t know who I am.
        Have a great day.

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Malcolm! I blended a little fiction with my reality, taking my character, Alexandra, on a hike with me. I was actually thinking of how to write the next scenes of the main story during my hike when the idea of this story hit me along with a few hornets.

      Liked by 2 people

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