The Untouchable

It's like chasing butterflies that no one else sees.

You are grabbing at air. Nothing is tangible. Golden Possibilities flutter before you, and are gone.

You are getting dizzy now. Running in a circle with a net. Does no one else see them? Are you crazy? Are you selfish? Are you mad? Are you running for something or from something?

You are huffing and puffing and panting and screaming and sprinting and swinging your net, and your hair has poofed out to the size of a beehive, but something tells you you're so close, too close, you can feel their presence. See a light.

You just know. You know they are there, suspended in air like droplets of water vapor. Invisible. Impalpable. Everywhere.

You reach out, slowly, slowly, cautiously... and--there!

Yet, as you open your hands, only your palms are revealed, sweaty and starving for luck.

Can you not BE what you're after?

You could be The Untouchable. Become the reverie you are trying to catch.

You could be within sight but not reach. A fuzzy voice at the other end of the line. A collection of pixels on a computer screen.

You could be the one they're waiting for. An invisible butterfly.