Thursday, July 4, 2013

Prompt: Fireworks

Piling in the back of the station wagon with pillows and blankets, already in our pj’s, Mom drove us down to Northgate Mall to watch the fireworks, way past our bedtime. Lying in the back, watching them explode overhead was magical.

Reading Louise May Alcott’s Rose in Bloom and wanting to see fireworks that made shapes like a rose, or a flag.

Picnic on the Esplanade, listening to the Boston Pops, watching fireworks reflected in the Charles. Walking home, arms wrapped around each other, not in a hurry, for once, to push through the crowds.

First time invited to the famous party 40 minutes south of nowhere. I never thought I’d see enough fireworks that I would get tired of them.

Baby’s first time to the famous party, and the noise startled her so badly I had to find a room with no windows and cover her ears.

Next year, I knew to cover her ears, holding her close, whispering, “Watch! Watch! See! Beautiful!” Her disapproving moue. “Fireworks noisy!” The belle of the ball that night.

The first July 4th we didn’t spend together. She was more angry to miss the famous party. The next year, she was at the famous party, and mad that I wasn’t there.

Watching on TV is never as satisfying as seeing them in person. But I never get tired of looking at photographs.

July 4th and New Year’s Eve, colorful boundaries of the year. Reds and blues and whites, greens and silver and gold. I could go on, but you know what, never mind. Let’s get out of here.

The fireworks have started.

Time writing:
20 minutes
July word count:

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