The Fly of the Butterfly (English)

Chapter 1.

The train ride from the capital of NewShire to the outskirts of the city takes almost two hours, in a bustle of stations people get on and off the carriages crowded like a group of cows with high stress levels.

Aeryne slung Jean's backpack over her shoulder, the weight of the books making her lower back ache from poor posture. She played with the strap of the backpack that she only held on her left shoulder, wound and unwound the small polyester strap that helped her adjust it, trying to calm the nerves that ran through every fiber of her body.

She looked from right to left and vice versa looking for a familiar face, she wanted to go unnoticed in that environment, so familiar and unknown at the same time. In turn, her loneliness yearned to know that it was at least a vague memory in the head of some stranger from that town.

She didn't want to be alone in the world.

She took a seat by the train door. She was wearing headphones, the instrumental music making it her job to calm her down, focus her and maybe, a little on purpose, isolate her from the messy and chaotic world around her. Her hands held a group of sheets with bookmarks, annotations, and a coffee stain that she stood proudly that she had produced the night before when she had dropped the cup of liquid from her hand after falling asleep studying for her class. next exam.

Time did not pass on that train and the movement gradually lulled her to sleep. After half an hour of reading she must have looked away from the notes, the lack of breakfast had begun to take its toll on her body and she was dizzy. She settled into her seat, her head leaning against the window and her eyes closed for a moment, she inhaled loudly. Memories haunted her mercilessly, at night, during the day, on the street, whenever a man dressed in a plaid shirt and sports cap landed behind her in the supermarket queue, she looked for him all the time, even when I knew more than anyone that I was never going to see him again.

Three stops later he had already put away the group of sheets he was studying and had settled by the door holding his cell phone tightly in his hand if he knew anything about this city they could take it away from him, no matter how many years pass, some things do not change.

She got off almost pushed by the passengers behind her. She climbed the stairs that took her to the streets teeming with life, the murmur of passers-by filling the panorama.

He walked feeling the cool of autumn hitting his face, the streets continued as he remembered them, the town square in the center, if he directed his gaze towards the cardinal north of the place, the National Bank was on his left, at his side he could recognize some new stalls. Jacobsen Pizzas, a hardware store with a funny-looking beaver dressed as a builder. Finally reaching the corner of the intersection of Nikon and Finley, a lingerie store too bold for this town, surely the owner or owner must be new here, he thought walking between the benches in the square.

To his right, a market that had grown exponentially in the nine years he had been out of the city, it occupied almost an entire block of stalls where you could find vegetables from the simplest, potatoes and their derivatives, to more exotic fruits such as dragon fruit that he had once tasted in a New York dessert shop.

After half an hour of rest in the square, he went out in the direction of General Don Street, he went through its passages as when he was 15 years old just before leaving that infernal town that had only caused misery in his existence, he still dragged a lot of that on him. their shoulders. She imagined walking with her father and her mother in search of her dress for her dance at school, that day she felt like a princess.

Little was left of those thoughts, that fragility that he had preserved was hidden in the depths of his being along with his sorrows. She couldn't afford to lose her head being weak as a princess, she saw how this happened with her mother and she wasn't going to afford to go through the same thing, since that November she fled from the Memphis institute she had become her own knight in shining armor, she barely discovered that no one would come to rescue her but herself.