Blue Power

Terence stops running.

Where is the parrot he saw from the police car?

There are one or two birds in the distance, poking in the wet sand. 

He is about to start running again, but something is wrong.

His feet have disappeared into the mud.

Wah! cries Terence.

He grabs onto a bitterbush.

Poor little you, says a voice like the voice of a butterfly.

It IS the voice of a butterfly.

Save me! cries Terence.

How can I? asks the butterfly.

Do you know where a tap is? asks Terence.

There isn't one, says the butterfly. Why?

My glove socks are sucking me down, says Terence.

Don't panic, says the butterfly. They haven't succeeded. I can see the blue tops.

Okay, says Terence. Now what?

They are pretty  says the butterfly.

Uh? says Terence.

Blue, says the butterfly. I like blue.

Terence looks at the butterfly properly.

Its wings are brown near the outer edges and blue closer in to its body.

Woop, says Terence. Help me get unstuck and you can have them.

What would I do with them? asks the butterfly.

Keep them, says Terence. But they might need a wash.

The butterfly, a bitterbush blue butterfly, imagines two blue glove socks fluttering from its two favourite bushes.

The glory!

Let me just eat a few leaves of bitterbush, says the butterfly. Get my strength up.

It eats a few bitter leaves. Nibble nibble.

Hurry up, says Terence. I need to catch up with a parrot.

First things first, says the butterfly.

Second, says Terence. First was eating.

Okay, ready, says the bitterbush blue butterfly, giving Terence a shove from behind.. 

It is remarkably strong for a butterfly.

Or maybe Terence is trying a bit harder.

Squeeeerch! Out comes one foot. Swueeooush! out come the other.

Yay! Thanks blue butterfly! 

Terence runs off.

The bitterbush blue butterfly is left looking at two empty blue holes in the mud.

Which belong to it now, theoretically.