The monarch

c c    The Monarch    d d

      There was a little green monarch chrysalis hanging on the pole of one of the insectaries. I found it the day when Meg was there.

      A week later I got a letter from her.

      “In the weeks to come, your monarch chrysalis in the insectary will be growing dark, signaling an immanent emergence. I expect you too, will have undergone sufficient transformation to also emerge, casting off the remains of an undergraduate perspective, and taking on the form of a taneral scientist. As is an exciting process and one that will make you stronger, more confident, and more at peace with yourself. ”

      After that I went there everyday to check the little chrysalis. Day after day I was waiting for the moment to witness this great transition. Day after day I was hoping I was going through the same process as the little creature in there.

      One day when I finish my observation, I went there again to check. It was after the rain. Everything was wet. I saw something hanging there, but it was empty. It emerged! I open the insectary. It must be in there. I could not wait to see it. I looked for a while and didn’t found a beautiful monarch, but only a little gray ugly butterfly. The wings didn’t expand out normally. The abdomen was distorted at a big angle. I checked once again and was sure that it was the only butterfly inside.

      I was struck by the huge contrast between the expectation and reality. But the little poor butterfly flew to my hand and stopped there. The touch of his legs was gentle. Only think positively, Qiuqiu. So I thought I should encourage him.

      “Hay, we were on the same boat. And you did it first. It was great. Don’t worry. You will live on. Just wait and see.”

      But the butterfly flew to my face and stopped on my nose.

      “What do you want to say to me?”

      He flapped his wings. I almost sneezed. I carried him out and put him on the top of a grass. He flew up for a second and fell down. He struggled and flew up again and crashed down again…

      I stopped here, for a long time, to think how to end this piece. Language seems too pale. Any attitude I add should be awkward. For this true and sad story, there is no end.

She looks like a tree

c c    She Looks Like A Tree    d d

      Two months passed. My experiment stared to get better. Or I started to feel better of my experiment. I didn’t know which way it was. But that did not matter.

      One day I went out to the site alone. I was in the army suit. The normal clothes probably won’t last longer than a week there. It was pretty noisy. It must be another group of hunters, I thought. There were a lot of “hunters” there during that time of the year. Many of them were in the same suits as mine. I did not understand in such a civilized country, why hunting still exists. Do they really feel good when they pull the trigger? Of course most of the time they were too noisy. A real hunter would never do that. They made sound from half a mile away while I was in my insectaries. I always cursed them getting nothing. And I heard some kids. There were kid hunters too. I could not believe their parents let them go killing at such an age.

      But it was not. It was a group of retarded children, at least from what I can tell. Two adults were leading them into the woods. I guessed they were the teachers. The last child in the line was running around. And he saw me. He had cross-eyes.

      “Look! She looks like a tree!” He shouted.

      Then the whole group turned around and looked at me. “Oh yes, she looks like a tree.” The other children repeated his words. They came to me. And touched my insect net with their little hands.

      “Are you going to catch a lot of mosquito with this?”

      “Yes, I am.” I said.

      “My children, she is a scientist.” One teacher said.

      “What is a scientist?” A little girl asked.

      “A scientist is a person who catches mosquito and watches them.” The teacher said.

      “Yes. I catch a thousand mosquito everyday.”

      “Wow…”

      The kids all looked at me. I was so proud at that moment.

      She looks like a tree. This was the best praise I had gotten for my life.