The August heat consumed the little girl swinging on the abandoned playground. Her blond curls tangled in the slight breeze of her own making. She sighed mournfully and glanced around in vain for a playmate. A blue butterfly fluttered past her face. With a delighted gasp, she held out her hand hopefully, and it actually landed on her outstretched palm, covering nearly the entire surface. Remembering what her mother hand once told her about butterflies, she closed her eyes and made a wish. The delicate blue wings lifted off into the air. The little girl watched it go wistfully. When she brought her gaze back to earth, a little boy stood in front of her swing. The girl was astonished that her wish had come true so quickly.
“Do you want to play?” she asked him shyly. He nodded. They spent the afternoon bounded only by what their imaginations could create. She was a princess locked in a tower; he was a prince. They were pirates on their jungle gym ship. She was an Indian; he was a cowboy. They were bank robbers; the playground was their vault.
The sun was dipping low on the horizon, casting a golden, magical glow on the world. They sat on the topmost portion of the jungle gym together. In the safety of the gloaming, she told him that he was her butterfly wish. He turned to face her.
“Will you marry me?” he asked solemnly. They walked through the gold tinted street holding hands.