Friday, September 23, 2005
Embedded in the mud, glistening green and gold and black, was a butterfly, very beautiful and very dead."Not a little thing like that! Not a butterfly!" cried Eckels.It fell to the floor, an exquisite thing, a small thing that could upset balances and knock down a line of small dominoes and then big dominoes and then gigantic dominoes, all down the years across Time. Eckels' mind whirled. It couldn't change things. Killing one butterfly couldn't be that important! Could it?- Ray Bradbury, "A Sound of Thunder"
lying among the petals 5:47 PM
