Iridescent orbs herald her impending arrival, a parade of bubbles dictated by the warm breezes of carbon monoxide exhaust fumes, marching to a hundred different drums, a kooky kazoo tune. She’s the garbage pixie, the city nymph, the fairy of the polluted forests and parks divided by the scream of trains. The bubbles skim across the top of the pavement as they die, exhaling a sigh of surprise and imploding, exploding, in gasoline rainbows on the black-top. The iridescent scrying glass of city fairies, the shimmer of petroleum, heat rising off of the tracks in waves. She’s mildly amused, long fingers of breeze caressing and catching bubbles, over eager childishness, a warm breath sending them careening off down the Hanlon and over the cars for miles. Carefree, it’s been a long time, since we were. Responsibilities weight down our world. She keeps on walking, anywhere she can- after all, daylight is breaking over where she stands.
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