Outside a Man's house, there's a place with a few dead flowers and fine soft sand. The flowers do not bloom and have become 'herbs and shrubs'. There is another group of plants that fare well in this weather, this season where the sun hits the earth unforgivingly to suck moisture for itself. There is Cactus and Minnieroot and Kush and Lilly's turf. They remain as they are life-full under a burning Sun.

The Man found a Mantis with its green wings and dusty lime eyes making its way to one of the dead flowers. He looked closer and saw that there was a Butterfly waiting on a dead petal to suck nectar from the lifeless flower. It couldn't tell the flower was dead and did not know of the danger of the Mantis -- a master of camouflage unlike itself. The Mantis steadied itself on a branch and waited for Mr Butterfly to come within reach. In one strike, the Mantis clawed the Butterfly, the tiny thing with frail wings. The Man watched the Mantis crunch the butterfly's head with its teeth and suck yellow juice from its brain. The Mantis liked it and its lime coloured eyes bulged more in excitement. It forgot the danger of the Man. The Man pelted a stone at it and broke its wings, legs and pincers. He watched it fall to the ground, wingless and crawling. He placed a heavy stone on it and observed its laboured breathing.

"Die Mantis, Die."

The Mantis killed the Butterfly. The Man killed the Mantis. The dead Flower watches them under the Sun and nothing ever blooms.

© I.K Inyang