The Glasswing Maker

He had spent forty years repairing ordinary things: kettles, clocks, a wedding ring once swallowed by a goose. Then, one rainy morning, a blue flame fluttered inside his furnace. He opened the door and found a butterfly made of stained glass, its wings still warm from the fire. It settled on his finger and showed him, in flashes of amber and black, every beautiful place he had never dared to leave home to see.