Fragmentation Emma Walls

Emma Walls Emma Walls Fragmentation

A sluggish, balmy afternoon in a suburb nestled in Sydney’s outer west, draws to a close. The sun begins its reluctant journey back beneath the grey mass of buildings that litter the horizon.

A figure flies through the centre of town. An erratic, desperate blur. Gaining speed, they rip throughthe clusters of leaves that have scattered along the road. Crunching under the wheels of his bike, they fall hazily onto the rough bitumen. The homes that greet him either side are lined with knee-high fences, the white paint flaking off each individual post. The air is thick and particles of pollen eddy around his head, attaching themselves to the striped fabric of his t-shirt.

Previously unwavering, his attention now falters. He screeches to a halt. The plastic bag laden with groceries that he’d balanced precariously in the middle of his handlebars, spills its contents onto the ground. He mutters under his breath in frustration when he notices the milk, gently leaking onto the uneven ground. It navigates the rivets, the bumps and lumps of the bitumen, to greet the gutter. He yanks it off the road, fumbling with the lid as it coats his hand, eventually conceding defeat and abandoning it in a neighbour’s trash. He snatches the bread up, the sheen of plastic rustling in his grip, bundling the vegetables back into the bag too. He settles the bag back onto the handlebars, before pausing to locate the source of his interest.

A butterfly. Tattered fragments of wings are shoved by a burst of wind, disassociating from their larger being, detaching to join the breeze and dissolve into the atmosphere. Painted brilliant reds and yellows, he decides it surely would become dinner for an eagereyed bird.

Lifting up the disintegrating being, he settles the insect between two rustling bushes, out of harm’s way. Seemingly at ease, it ceases to move, with a habitual twitch of its left wing assuring him it remains alive. A kaleidoscope of butterflies form above, their psychedelic colours merging together to form a swarming furore, powerful and bold.

He hopes it will continue to grow, as best it can.into a clay-world tundra. Those