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Longing by Anglea

butterfly is my name, butterfly is my code name is what I mean. Small 'b'. Serial number 123456123456. One day I will be allowed to see green hills and blue skies but for now I am living under fluorescent light in the bunker I get told is home. Did I tell you I am an alien, accidentally arrived here ten of your years ago and kept alive, miraculously, not sliced up like my companions for the delectation and curiosity of the military and scientific communities.

One day I might be free to fly away like my namesake.

My wings are so uncomfortable, they want to unfurl and stretch. They use my wings as blackmail, knowing that one day I will be desperate enough to tell them all they want to know about my home.

butterfly, that's who I long to be again.

Now I am just a man.

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