Rockets, Red Glare

I was working until nine or so at school tonight and when I started hearing booming noises in the distance, it took me a while to realise it was fireworks and that I was missing them. I finished up my work and headed back to the car, feeling kind of sorry for myself that I had made no plans to watch the fireworks, even while their rolling booms ricocheted off the buildings around me. Then I tried to figure out where they were; maybe I could catch the edge of them over the trees.

Turns out they were everywhere. Driving north, I saw a bunch over Hollywood. Then I caught sight of some in the rearview. Then some to the east, over downtown, like huge moving flowers. As I drove up the 101, fireworks exploded off of a highway overpass as I went under it, and further up, from a sideyard to spill out onto the road. Driving up the one block of Normal street between Hoover and Virgil (the street of ridiculousity, the street where there is a 40% chance of someone darting out in front of my car and an 85% chance I'll have to squeeze past a double-parked car every time I drive up it) people were setting up fireworks in the middle of the road while cars lined up, trying to drive down it.

Explosions came from every direction. A woman stood in the middle of the street twirling fire as an audience of children watched. Coloured lights would flare up in the distance, like temporary city lights, and then disappear into the black-on-black smoggy night air. Walking back to the apartment, I stood on the sidewalk while the machine-gun sprays of sparkles subsided from a burning box.

I can hear little pops off in the distance right now. And sirens.