The acrid smell of July fourth fireworks burned Stella’s throat. She handed the firecracker to the pyrotechnician. He attached a wire and set it off to the side.
At nightfall, the crowd cheered as it burst into red, white, and blue.
Stella watched Ed’s cremains descend.
“Enjoy your wish, sweetheart.”
Jenise Cook lives with her husband and their herding dog in the north-central highlands of Arizona where it snows. Jenise enjoys visitors to @jenisecook on Twitter, @jenisecook on Medium.com, and at JeniseCook.com, where you can find a list of her published works.
The fireworks boomed in the background as I stood. “It just isn’t working, Jason,” I said, hanging my head.
“Please, Sara. I’m begging you,” he said, rising to take my hand.
I watched the glory trail of light left by the explosive display. Our love had burned bright.
Rachel Parker-Stephen wrote this story.
My neighbours are quiet, peaceful and private. It’s great, because it would suck to be interrupted by nosy, whining neighbours during my thrice-weekly parties.
When I shoot off fireworks at 2 AM they come out and yell until they’re blue in the face. That’s how I know they’re really enjoying it.
This story was based on the prompt “loud neighbor” at TypeTrigger.
Chocolate brownies are delightful. But not with nuts in them.
Chewy cookies are delightful. But not with nuts in them.
Insane asylums are delightful. But not with nuts in them.
Exploding fireworks are delightful. But not with nuts in them.
Repetitive statements are delightful. But not with nuts in them.