Experiencing feelings of transformation.(14)

   "What the heck.............why not depart through the window then I can get to the local arcade, the high street, the real world with the minimum of fuss and wear my base ball cap and dark glasses with no questions asked. I am going to be my best today and seek my destiny."  Leroy muttered to himself as he moved the furniture.
   Aunt Mo. had by now developed quite a stiff angular posture of which was rapidly becoming a neck-ache. To relieve the pain she entered into a necessary but involuntary form of callisthenics. This was more in response to the dragging of furniture over carpeted floor than a planned form of neck exercise. The sound expanded her curiosity and widened the arc of her angular eagle like bird motion. Her body remained transfixed. Her head moved North, East, West then North North West; it remained parallel with
the ceiling as her ear followed the sound of dragging furniture. Suddenly she was overcome by a dizzy spell her grip on the newel post tightened. She shifted her weight onto the stained wooden stair banister.  Fortuitously the crumpled butterfly within crawled beneath the line of the spiders web, of which the spider had long abandoned. The crumpled butterfly made its way instinctively to a crack beneath the sash window and travelled tightly along the crevice valley pressed against the decaying paintwork. The channel
appeared to provide a direct route to somewhere mysterious, where the crumpled butterfly could somehow unfurl. By this time other chrysalis of which formed a clutch was too experiencing feelings of transformation.
They too it would be assumed would follow the leaders trail, to create a wagon train of bugs seeking freedom, food and a mate.
   As Leroy shinned down the pipe flat footed against the wall, he had not noticed the colony of bugs that had now converged on the inner sill; after all he had other things on his mind. Dislodging the pipe slightly that loosened a wall rivet, was like awakening out of a dream state as he anticipated a fall and the fear of landing on the holly bush. It never once occurred to him that what he was doing was quite senseless. Rather it was a lesson that he was finally teaching his guardian mother Aunt Mo. By now Aunt Mo. not only 
had hot flushes, dizzy spells and all the blood had drained to her now swollen legs but she also began to enjoy flashbacks of a better life, when things were so much better and not quite so busy. She also wondered where on earth Ivan went on that rainy night in 1959, he never did tell her and to this day she still doesn't know. She had asked him repeatedly but his response was always the same.
   "What you don't know dear can't hurt you," was his reply.

   "What a dumb stupid response," She muttered to herself still not understanding what he meant.
   "I don't really think he knew what he was speaking about," she thought further. Thoughts criss-crossed and raced each other in Aunt Mo.'s mind.
Until eventually all thoughts became frozen in a murky deep pool of abstract words:
   "Sin-ting, cleaning for spring, Simits across the way, Ivan, oh Ivan, we do miss you so."
   Just before falling like an axed tree a thought snapped her upright once more.
   "Let me go and sit down," she thought, and did.
    As Aunt Mo. made her way to her favourite armchair by the window, she muttered.
   "Rather than waiting for that dam stupid boy to come down here and help me with the shopping and Spring cleaning I might as well do it myself after I have had a little rest. But why should I do all that when there is a big strong lazy ox up stairs."   Aunt Mo shuffled her stiff joints to her seat by the window. 
   "All this dust it only brings down the class of the residence," she complained to herself.
   "Ivan would never have approved," she convinced herself further.
   "If only he was able to be here to help me with the spring cleaning or shopping or anything else, that Leroy had turned out to be such a disappointment since hair started to grow under his nose. The young people
of today they are just wrapped up in themselves, they have very little understanding or care for any other person." Aunt Mo. continued her monologue as she moved towards the big armchair by the window.
   Shuffling her petrified feet she aimed her posterior towards the seat and targeted the cushion. In one rocking movement she landed safely and reclined.
   "Ahh sah", she sighed in sublime satisfaction as the weight from her legs was relieved. She closed her eyes.  The drab interior of her living accommodation became harmonious hues of orange as the sunlight played
across the cloud of dust like a harpsichord. A myriad of colours played in her mind, purples, yellows, greens and a variety of blue tints until they began to slowly taking form.
   Meanwhile the crumpled butterfly penetrated into the daylight of the real world with its entourage of mates, friends and relatives close behind, to some Aunt Mo.’s  body was an obstacle to be surmounted others ignored her and her world of unreality. The sun glowed on the back of the most persistent bug. The wings dried out and spread majestically to present a two eyed like creature staring out with menace as a mere defensive camouflage. The butterfly emerged on the outer windowsill, a light breeze fluttered and the
wings quivered gently.