The Firework

I remember looking at you.  Everything felt like it was in slow motion, like someone had somehow found the remote to my life and was sitting, watching, the events unfold. I remember looking at the firework against the dark sky.  I remember the single burst of red and orange and the fire against the black until the spark turned into debris, scattered across the beach.

 

I heard the waves crashing and felt the night breeze dance across my skin.  I remember that I had goose bumps. I felt oddly close to the moment, the feeling and the single firework that was enveloped by the black. 

 

I slowly turned my head back towards yours.  Why was it so slow? I looked at your eyes.  Mine were locked in yours and yours were locked in mine until it was unclear what we were both looking at.  But I remember the expression, the knowing, the understanding behind your pupils. I turned back towards the deep blue of the waves and walked closer towards the tide. 

 

I heard you start to walk behind me but I had already buried my toes into the damp sand.  It was too late to get out now.  I felt your body heat.  I looked up at the sky, still in slow motion.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

I tore my head away from the sky.  I was trying to find the spark that had been there earlier, trying to find the orange in the black.  Trying to see the fire.  It couldn’t possibly be extinguished; it had to still be there, somewhere, hidden under a layer.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Sorry, what?”

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

I didn’t answer him.  I never did.  But then again, the truth doesn’t make a noise.

 

I found myself trying to collect the debris on the beach, hoping that somewhere within the charred remains was a reminder of the brilliant display of life I saw earlier.  I needed to find it.  I had to find it.  

 

Four and a half months later, I found it.  I saw you.  You were with her and I saw the firework again against your dark pupil.  Maybe she saw it too.  Maybe she didn’t.  But I did.

 

Author's Note

Please comment w thoughts!

Reviews

[Amrita]

So beautiful..! Every word was amazingly conveying the emotions...! :)

[Tony Jordan]

Timely and apt for this season.
I say the truth must make noise though - Im more in Malcolm X's camp than Martin Luther King's.
Nicely done Lardee.

[Patrick Masters]

Overall I'd say this was very good. The writing is very descriptive and I felt like I could picture the scene. The story itself was touching and relatable.