In the heart of the shimmering turquoise pond floated a lily pad big enough for a nap, coloured like polished jade with crimson veins. Perched upon it was Barnaby, a frog patterned in shocking emerald and sunshine-yellow hues. He watched, entranced, as a butterfly—a living stained-glass window of sapphire blue and tangerine orange—landed softly beside him on a magnificent amethyst water lily that glowed with a molten gold centre.
The air hung sweet with nectar. Overcome with affection for the winged jewel, Barnaby leaned forward. With a gentle mwah, he planted a tiny, cool kiss on the butterfly’s wing. The butterfly shivered, scattering glittering pollen like fairy dust around them, before dancing away into the rosy, cotton-candy sunset.
