So I was asleep.
At least I think I was asleep. It’s hard to know while you’re asleep, because, well, you’re asleep.
Anyway, suddenly I wasn’t. My heart pounded, and I wasn’t sure why until there it was again. A noise exploded, echoing off the buildings, sounding as though it was right outside my window. And then there were more and more and more, percussive, loud, un-block-out-able.
“Oh, come on,” I thought.
It quieted outside. I started to relax.
For minutes, I’m not sure how many, five, ten, I just stayed where I was, willing it to stop. It didn’t. I turned the clock and squinted to make sense of the numbers.
Who’s patriotic at that hour?
I fumbled for my glasses, as it was long past contact lens time, and peeked out the window to see if I could tell where they were coming from, but those sneaky explosive-releasers, they stopped.
Until I tried going back to bed.
I’m not an easy sleeper, and once woken, it’s nearly impossible. The sound of explosives doesn’t help. Another one went off, a window rattler. Where were the police we were promised? There was an announcement issued on the 4th that fireworks are illegal and police would enforce the laws regarding them. “Where are you, police?” I thought. Surely they could hear them too, I was pretty sure that people in Michigan could hear them.
I started concocting scenarios in my head of these evil explosive-releasers surprised by the wailing sirens of the anti-fireworks S.W.A.T. team, being led away in plastic cuffs, saying “but the guy told me--”
“--we remind you, you have the right to remain silent, son,” my imaginary officer, strong, moral, dedicated, and positively anti-firework, told him.
Eventually I realized I hadn’t heard one in a while.
That was just before 3.
I went back to sleep.
It’s hard to know these things.
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