The fifth of November. The moon and stars glowed bright against the crisp, cool night sky.
The leaves rustled on the trees, a palette of red, amber and gold.
The fire blazed, crackling with anticipation of what was to come.
Everyone gathered together. It was a night to be united, not a night to be alone. A night to share, to celebrate, to join.
It was a night to be warm, a night to glow.
A night to fizz and sparkle.
The fireworks shooting to the moon like rockets made me believe anything was possible.
They would shoot so high and blaze so bright.
They burst in an explosion so dazzling, so bright, so loud, so joyful… it set my heart pounding.
As I warmed myself by the blazing fire
My eyes began to flicker in the light…
I saw her there, alone.
She burned so brightly.
My heart fizzed and crackled.
The warmth and magic of the night was rising inside.
I hoped I would glow for her the way she did for me.
That the spark, fizz and bang of the fireworks would be ours.
But as I approached her, I was nervous. I couldn’t speak, didn’t know what to say.
But the glow of the light, the warmth of the fire and the magic of the fireworks beckoned me to speak.
She stood, and smiled.
The air between us crackled.
The warmth radiated.
And she shone even more brightly.
I asked her if she felt the magic too.
And the light and the warmth drew us together.
As I touched her, the whole world burned bright.
I looked into her face, glowing with light and warmth.
We crackled, and fizzed, and sparkled, and glowed.
And there were fireworks.