October 18, 1996,

Greetings, my friends,

My name is Tara Miskenack. When I was younger, my friends occasionally asked me to tell them my story. Sometimes I tried, but invariably, one of two things would happen. Those who were kind would display a serious look of concern and fear association with me, lest they too be condemned to rot in Hell for my blasphemy and sacrilegious beliefs. Others, in cruel and taunting sneers, would begin chanting a song suggesting a need to commit me to an insane asylum. Therefore, for a long time, I kept my story to myself.

Besides, when I look out into the stars or sit quietly worshipping, I know my faith is strong and secure. In the end, my fellow earthlings will understand I am as blessed as are they. Only, I stole a little something and kept it to myself when I was young.

I am not going to tell you my story because it is not yet over. I am still living it! However, I am getting older. Therefore, I will try to tell you a little about the Land of the Butterflies. The characters I shall introduce to you are as real as I am. They are flesh and blood human beings just like you and me. Often, I think of them as angels, but in my heart, I know they are merely another race. They are my brothers and sisters and are a chosen people.

There is great comfort in looking up into the night sky, seeing the light of life shining across the distances, and knowing we are not alone. We are being guarded and guided into the future. God is ever beside us, around us, and within us. We are never alone, never forsaken. We are just blind sometimes and need a little help from the Instruments of Creation.

Somewhere, out there, so far away our strongest telescopes cannot pick out their sun as a single star in a cluster of many, barely discernible galaxies in the heavens, is the Land of the Butterflies. The people, vainly perhaps, say they reside in the heart of God.

Their culture is radically different from ours. I have tried very hard to tell you this story from their perspective. We are the aliens in their eyes. However, their culture did shock me, and I humbly apologise for my errors both to you and to them.

In ways, they appear very primitive, but what they know and can do boggles my mind. I cannot understand the placement of visions in time, nor know exactly whether any one event in my life really followed any concrete, chronological order. After all, our worlds are so far apart, and conventional time, they told me, was dependent on the light of God. What I think of light is that it takes millions of years to come from their world to ours or vice versa.

Yes, I have been there. I know many of the characters personally. I have never met Tara Lakker, but I know her spirit, maybe even have a little of it wrapped around my own soul. I thank destiny for giving me the name Tara. I am thoroughly convinced the prophet, York Sabastin, has a weakness for women with the name of Tara. Had my name been any other, I would not even have this story to tell!

I think the story of York Sabastin leads to the beginning of my story. To make it easier to tell, I have ignored a few facts. Their day, for example, is equivalent to twenty-eight point three eight Earth hours. Their year, too, is longer. I also have taken the liberty of filling in some blanks in my knowledge. This story is part of the history of the Land of the Butterflies and important to them as well.

I came back with knowledge that they are more than a dream. I am not going to tell you whether their culture is better than is ours or disgustingly sinful. When I look at our moon, although it is nearly identical to theirs, I think about being there, and when I see a butterfly, I feel warm inside and want to dance. For myself, despite the harshness of life and the fact I was there for only three years, I would rather live there than here on Earth. For there, everything is so vibrantly alive. The Land of the Butterflies awakens a yearning in my soul for home.

Without further ado, meet York Sabastin. He is asleep in his bed in a dormitory in the city of Shiacre, on the Land of the Butterflies. This is part of his story. It begins approximately thirty-four Earth years ago, on a day not unlike today.

Sincerely,

Tara.