I find myself staring. Twenty steps. That's all. All it takes. Twenty steps.

I look down and see the car keys dangling from my hands. I know my car is behind me. Red and shiny.

Twenty steps. I take the first one. My breath hitches. I turn around and look at my car. It is there, right there, behind me.

I take another step. And another. Seventeen to go.

I look up. A butterfly. Warped and twisted. All bent out of shape. The cutest thing I have ever seen. I always look at the butterfly. It makes me smile. It propels me forward. Almost involuntarily, I take another step. And another.

I know my car is behind me. I know the butterfly is up in front of me.

I lower my gaze. Look straight ahead. Take another step. Nearly there.

I sigh.

Turn around one more time. Shake my head.

Focus!

Fourteen steps. That should do it. Fourteen steps towards the black hole right in front of me.

The butterfly is looking down on me. I know that without looking up. It is always there. I know everything about it. The odd shape. The unrealistic colours. The warmth it projects. I don't need to look again. It is burned into my brain.

Fourteen steps. An eternity.

I pause. Take a breath.

I know that the black hole will swallow me. It is inevitable.

Suddenly, I hear laughter. It is coming from behind the butterfly.

"Catch me, fatface."

My heart soars. I quicken my step.

Another small voice sounds from behind the butterfly.

"I hate you."

I feel for my key in my trouser pocket. Take it out. My heart much lighter.

"You're a fatface. You're a fatface. You're a fatface."

I feel a big grin spread across my face.

Two more steps.

My hand reaches out, trying to stick the key into the keyhole. I'm still grinning.

Before my hand reaches the lock, the door opens.

My smile slips.

Target reached.

"Hi honey, heard your car. Hope you had a nice day. The kids are upstairs, playing, supposedly. Doesn't sound like it, though. So, thank God you're here. Do you want me to take your bag before you sort them out?"

Silently, I hand over my bag. My jacket still on, I climb the stairs.

Open the door. Scoop two squirmy little wiggly worms into my arms. Look towards the window. Pudgy handprints all over it. And in the middle, a grotesquely distorted butterfly. I squeeze, smiling. Remembering how we put it there. The three of us. Colours everywhere. No clue what we were doing.

The butterfly is ugly, to be honest. But it is the most beautiful sight I can imagine. I feel myself soar. Breathe in as deeply as I can.

Downstairs seems light years away.