‘Fireworks’ by Lucy Heasman

I had my fireworks. They were not the usual kind. Not big bangs and showering stars

of huge delight. The surprise of a spinning Katherine wheel is lost on me. The noise,

popping, hissing streams of sparkling light flying and spraying through the nighttime

sky only make my ears hurt and my neck feel stiff from staring up with wide eyes for

the next explosion.

I had my fireworks this warm November in 2015.

We were walking home in the light rain, dampening our hair with drops of soft moisture.

When I looked over to the hills on the horizon, I saw a huge rainbow which seemed to

envelop Mark and I with a warm, gentle cuddle. I pointed. “Look at that,” I said with

wonder in my voice. It was the biggest rainbow I had ever seen.

“We have found our rainbow,” I said, turning to Mark, and he was laughing.

Continuing our journey home, we walked towards it but never quite got there.

Yet nature’s gentle threads weaving wonder in our hearts had lifted our spirits for those

brief moments and we had felt alive. That was our fireworks.

That evening, while others stood in the frosty night winds gazing at the firework shows,

Mark and I were safe, cozy and warm with the walking afternoon glow of the autumn

sunshine still fresh on our rosy cheeks.

Copyright 2017 by Lucy Heasman. All rights belong to the author and material may not be copied without the author’s express permission.

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