runner, fireworks, options

 The runner.

Last night while watching the television I see through the window, what I take to be  the tear-like flames of Roman candles falling in the dark sky behind the lime tree. I fancy that the sound of the television has drowned out the usual explosions which accompany fireworks, but the silent, golden tears  are still puzzling. It is only later that I realize that what I am seeing are the leaves from the lime tree caught by the light of the street lamp, falling  from the branches of the tree.

Outside the orthodontist's in The High Street, a placard offers "Smile Options".