The Skunk and the Zebra Swallowtail Butterfly

Skunk was hard at work. Butterfly zoomed by to bring him a drink.

“Thanks, Butterfly,” Skunk said, “but I must keep working.”

“Tell me first,” Butterfly said. “What always keeps you too busy to play with me?”

“I am trying to write,” Skunk said.

“What are you trying to write?” Butterfly said.

“I am writing a book,” Skunk said.

“Does writing a book mean you cannot do anything else?” Butterfly said. “Come and play.”

“I have much to do,” Skunk said. “I have no time for play.”

“Everyone has time for play,” Butterfly said. “Give it a try.”

Skunk shook his head. “If I start to play,” Skunk said, “I might stop working.”

“Once you start to play,” Butterfly said, “you just might find your work goes better.”

Skunk finally looked up at Butterfly, and smiled.

“Maybe you are right,” Skunk said. “Maybe I should try something new.”

Skunk stood up. Butterfly fluttered all around him. She smiled.

Skunk just kept standing.

Butterfly danced.

Skunk watched her dance. But he just kept standing.

Butterfly zoomed.

Skunk just kept standing.

Butterfly did a loop-the-loop. Then she did ten loop-the-loops.

Skunk just kept standing.

“What is wrong, Skunk?” Butterfly said.

Skunk sighed. “I think I have forgotten how to play,” he said, sadly.

Butterfly would not give up.

“What is your book about?” Butterfly asked.

“My book is about black and white animals,” Skunk said.

Butterfly smiled. “You are a black and white animal,” she said. “I am a black and white insect. Maybe you need a break from black and white.”

Skunk was confused.

“Follow me,” Butterfly said, “I will bring you some color.” She started to fly.

Skunk followed.

The zebra swallowtail butterfly led Skunk to a large meadow, full of the most colorful flowers he had ever seen in his life. There were purple flowers, and blue ones, and bright green grass everywhere he looked. There were flowers as yellow as the golden sunshine. The sky was deep blue, and the fluffy clouds were white as snow.

Skunk sniffed the lovely orange flowers, and rolled around happily in the rich red flowers.

Butterfly zoomed and danced around him.

“Are you having fun?” Butterfly asked Skunk. “Does all this color make you happy?”

“I am happy to be a black and white animal,” Skunk said. “But I am happiest of all to have a friend like you to bring me to a place like this to try new things.”

THE END.