#loud.

Hello? [It replies]

My contemplation upon your nature has lead me to a great question that must be met with an answer. . .

What understanding—no—to what extent does an Abnormality, a being such as yourself possess regarding the egress of human life? Do you comprehend what death is, or are you simply mimicking the understanding of it?

What meaning does a butterfly have to you, Nothing There?

[The creature pauses, as if regarding the question intellectually.]

A cateRPillar mOLts into a butterfly, sprEading wings.

But caterpillar dOn't exist anymore.

DeaTh?

[It asks.]

[Perhaps the glimpse of intelligence the child thought he saw during the breach ran deeper than he thought.]

Does hUman understand deaTh?

[The question elicits a small refrain from the child, his dull black eyes regarding the creature with more caution than he did previously. The child breathes, for a moment.]

Though death may evade precise definition. . . the bereaved continue to lament nonetheless. Perhaps grief is but a selfish reverence, a respect for those already departed. A sinful indulgence not all within the City can afford.

[A black and white butterfly lands on the child's shoulders.]

Thus, the butterflies nested within me necessitate careful tending. Both the Living and the Departed. None would have felt sorrow for them, and now it is my duty to bring these butterflies to rest. . . so that they may one day flutter away.

[The child pauses. He may have spoken more than he thought he would.]

O-06-20, if a thing changes in totality, yet retains the memory of its former state. . . may it still claim to be the same existence?

Need, thInk. [The flesh of the creature shifts.]

Sometimes her shadow seems to curl around me

Selkie loves me, I'm sure of that, but sometimes her form shakes

And she's everything and nothing at once

She smells of dirt sometimes, dirt from graves. I do not understand how I know that smell

Selkie often comes home, a frog in her mouth, amd sometimes that frog is too big, too toothy. Too alive

She came from my mother, from my grandmother, who got her from her grandmother, who got her from her grandmother, who says she came from a well so deep in the forest.

A forest that couldn't possibly be that deep, out crawled a cat who possibly couldn't be that old.