The Greenhouse's Idillic End

The dust of all those wings was hovering on the greenhouse. The professor sat calmly on a chair, and nor the young man or Manu could be seen anymore: only the shadows projected by the sun were slowly moving. One by one, the butterflies started twitching --wings, the little legs pushed the pins out of the wall and in a while all the moths were moving around, till a window was found to release that flux of colorful insects. The professor remained sit: only the exoeskeleton left; light, and translucid as the sun beams traversed it; the chitin cavities only fueled by the dusty and warm air of the greehouse.