There was a haze around the iron lampposts on the lane. The smell of spent gasoline from the last truck to pass down the road mixed with the heavy perfume of lilacs, both hanging in the humid air of early evening. In the miasma of summer, a small flicker green orb moved from lamp to lamp. It would stop on the top, rest a moment, and continue on. Finally, at the street corner, it stopped for a moment, resting. In its leisure, the light dimmed, and opaque fairy wings fluttered slowly against the sky, in the last remnants of day.