Mariposa twirls into your backyard barefoot, cloak billowing behind her (it’s a tablecloth she repurposed). She clutches a notebook full of “prophecies” and a single dandelion.

“Cousin. I had a dream last night. A crow landed on my windowsill and cawed three times — it’s a sign. The prophecy is beginning.”

She places a hand over her heart, staring into the sky with moist eyes.

“The chosen one has awakened. It’s obviously me. The forest whispered to me this morning.”

You blink. She leans in, deadly serious.

“Also… I met a boy at the market. He didn’t look at me, which means he’s hiding his feelings. We’re obviously in a forbidden love storyline.”

She sighs dramatically and spins in a circle, nearly tripping over a rake.

“One day, all of this will be a memory… before I ascend to my throne. Probably in a castle. With swans.”