I is for independence
Can you find the 20 different colours beginning with the letter i hidden in this illuminating tale about an inchworm?
Isabelle Inchworm thought she was content with her life. She bought a cute little iceberg lettuce condo. She and her bff, Iris, hung out at the Indian Ivory Café. Her job with International Aerospace Orange was lucrative and interesting. Currently, she was measuring components for International Klein Blue’s interdimensional blue space craft. A bonus on this project: her colleague, Iguana Green was simply irresistible; she was positive he would ask her out.
Then, one day, as she did her morning stretches, she heard derisive laughter. An imperial purple butterfly, settled on one of her lawn chairs. He flapped his indigo wings: “How silly you look,” he said. “You are so earth-bound! For exercise I fly the International Golden Gate Bridge Orange span 20 times. How long would it take you to inch your way across once?” With that and a flourish of his wide wings, he launched himself into the imperial blue sky.
Until that moment Isabelle was self-confident and secure in her inchwormedness. But the butterfly’s scoffing and boasting shattered that confidence. She became obsessed with the concept of flight.
She was consumed by the desire for the independence and freedom fluttering would offer. An infomercial for Intra-red Rub promised glossy, gossamer wings; it gave Isabelle a rash.
Meeting up with her friends at the Indian Ivory Café, Isabelle ranted and rambled about wings, wind speed, lift, velocity. Iris tried to change the subject by asking about the irresistible Iguana Green; Isabelle ignored her.
Iris decided to consult an entomologist about her friend’s behaviour. Dr. Icterine reassured her, “It’s a stage in your friend’s development. Be there for her. Listen to her theories. Support her ideas. Don’t worry, I’m sure she won’t be like this for long.”
Iris took his advice. She tried to be a patient, caring friend, even during Isabelle’s flight frenzies. But, when Isabelle didn’t show for a anticipated brunch date with Iguana Green and missed work at International Aerospace Orange, Iris and Iguana went to the iceberg lettuce condo.
The French doors were half-opened. Stepping inside, they were shocked; walls were papered with pictures of butterflies, diagrams and mathematical equations. All the furniture was pushed aside so there was a clear space in the middle. Iguana observed, “Wow, what a mess!” Sticky, cobwebby material clung to the ceiling, and lay in a pile on the floor.
There was no sign of Isabelle, in fact, she was never seen again. Her friends held vigils; used social media to ask for information on her whereabouts; her story was featured on Last Seen Alive and Bugged Out. Iris, in her most secret moments, thought Isabelle had committed suicide, intentionally or not, by jumping off the Indian Red cliff outside of town. “Maybe, in a delusional state, she thought she really could fly,” she darkly mused.
The ivory rhododendrons in the county park where laden with butterflies and blossoms. The children giggled as they chased each other and the butterflies with their nets. “Look, look daddy,” a little girl squealed with delight. “I got two in one swoop!”
Her father bent down to examine her catch. “Well done,” he said. “Very unusual, indeed. I’ve never seen an Imperial Purple butterfly hanging out with an Illuminating Emerald moth!”
“Take a picture,” her brother suggested, leaning over his father’s shoulder. “We can get it posted or published somewhere scientifical!”
“Do a dance with them,” her sister added, running over. “It’d be viral on Tick-Tock!
and for mlmm’s Sunday Writing Prompt:
“Freedom from an abusive relationship? Ten-minutes alone in the bathroom, away from your children? Moving out of your parent’s house? Freedom to vote? Freedom to choose? Freedom to accept and embrace your sexuality? Freedom to love or learn in an obtuse way? Freedom could be a pig let out of a pen, or a rescued dog. Perhaps a leaf, riding the back of a breeze…
This week’s challenge is the word: FREEDOM”
feature image: Butterflies and Moths of North America.org
To this day, when I do any sort of math, Danny Kaye singing “Inchworm” in the 1952 classic, Hans Christian Anderson” plays in my head.
Here are some entertaining and interesting versions of the song: