As evening approached, the scent of autumn grew stronger. For several days now it had been troubling the butterfly, warning it of winter’s inevitable approach. Everything around it was changing: the greenery was fading and turning yellow, while the night wind forced it to cling more tightly to the branch. And yet never before had nectar seemed so sweet, nor the world so beautiful, for one’s final moments are always beautiful.
But the butterfly did not yet know how few of those moments remained...
Catching sight of a bright flower and hovering above it, the butterfly prepared to settle upon it. Then, in an instant, a whirlwind of wings descended upon it, and darkness swallowed everything.
The disciples preparing their teacher, who had died peacefully in his sleep, for burial could hardly have guessed that he had already been buried—in the belly of a nightingale.
Viacheslav Sannikov "Almost True". Part I "Humans"
