A tale of a butterfly that didn’t want to grow up

Once, I’ve found a pupa of a butterfly. Actually, it was my mom—the cocoon fell from a branch of blackcurrant where she was collecting the berries, and she brought it to me, without taking her heavy gardening gloves off. It was the middle of September, the time of falling leaves and stupid wool clothes, always two sizes wrong and smelling like dust in the attic.

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Stories from another hemisphere, written under a stripper pen name and in a second language. Because God forbid we make things easier for us.

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Luna Lovecroft

Luna Lovecroft

Stories from another hemisphere, written under a stripper pen name and in a second language. Because God forbid we make things easier for us.

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