And just like that he is here again. Watching. When I was a child I once asked my mother if we could invite him in but she said, “No! You can never let that thing in. He will do unspeakable things.” I obeyed her words and considered it again. That is, until today.

It was a normal morning. I had drank my first coffee of the day. I turned on some cooking show as background noise. Beginning to make my father’s breakfast and sort out his many pills I fell into my daily routine. The days blend together they’re all the same.

A crash sounded from outside. I thought it was another stray cat looking through the garbage. I was wrong.

I looked out the window showing the alley. A canvas been knocked over with its contents spilling onto the ground. I gave a sigh of annoyance and necessity. But when I stepped out into the sun everything changed.

Everything around me was different. No longer were there apartment buildings with rickety fire escapes, the smell of tobacco smoke from several neighbors, or the sound of cars going past. Instead there was a meadow with grass almost as tall as me but all yellow and dead. Above I saw a clear blue sky instead of the typical storm clouds and power lines. But what made me know that I wasn’t at home anymore was the sound. There was none. Not the familiar sounds I’ve become accustomed to nor the sounds one would associate with the great outdoors. The tall yellow grass moved yet I couldn’t feel the wind pushing against me.

There it was. A… butterfly? I didn’t usually see any but this didn’t look like a regular butterfly. It glowed in a color like my mother’s eyes, blue and green all mixed up. And instead of flapping its wings it glided like an airplane.

I needed to know where it was going. I followed the creature for what felt like miles and I never tired. I walked for hours but my feet never hurt.

Through this tall yellow grass we went. And when I stumbled I looked up and it was still. It didn’t move again until I was steady. Then we kept going.

More walking and more hours but I never felt the need to stop. I realized that the day’s light never changed. When I raised my head to the sky there was no sun.

I went to focus my attention on the butterfly but it was no longer there. Had I lost it? Then I blinked and was met with the sight of something else. Him. The odd man my mother warned me about. The one who would watch our house once a year every year growing up. I hadn’t remembered to look for him in so long I had almost forgotten what he looked like. But right then it all came back to me.

“What are you doing here?” I heard myself say. Confusion and wondering clouded my mind but never fear.

He said nothing. Perhaps he was incapable. Then he pointed up to the sky. I blinked again and I now I’m home.

My father is having a coughing fit again.

I’ll leave the back door open.