Before I became a butterfly, I was a worm. I lived in Worm
City, which is south of the equator. The weather there is
cold and damp and miserable, and that has evil effects on us
worms' disposition. We tend to stay in bed a lot and read
books, surely a recipe for neurosis. Take my cousin Wallace,
for example. He is twice divorced, and all he can talk about
is how much Worm City's mayor is a jackass, how prices keep
going up, and how the dragonflies are out to get us.
Needless to say, he was totally opposed to my going to
Cocoon School. At graduation, all he could say was "your
wings are too bright, they make you look like a clown".

I had to leave the city. There was no work. Wallace actually
supported me, claiming that if I got my act together and
stopped being a lazy fool I could make something out of
myself "out there". He was wrong. I continued being a lazy
fool, but was lucky and got richer than he ever dreamed. He
was bitter as hell, but never left Worm City. He got run
over by a bumblebee last fall. His only daughter didn't even
come to the funeral.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, sweating. I
dream that I am covered by slimy worms, crawling all over my
skin, sucking out my life fluids. I go to the bathroom, turn
on the light, and stare at myself in the mirror. Wallace was
right, my wings are too bright.