Let’s do ten minutes today, since I am totally unprepared. It’s the fourth of July, so let’s think about fireworks. Go!
John’s grip tightened on my wrist as he pulled me up the slope. A tree branch snagged my sweater.
“Slow down,” I shouted.
“Come on,” John laughed. “We’re almost there.”
The dried leaves on the forest floor cracked beneath my sneakers. A cricket chirped in the distance.
“If you could just tell me where we’re going?”
“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
The moonlight cast flickering shadows as the treetops swayed in the breeze. He slowed, and took my hands in his. John’s eyes consumed me. His smile drained any sense of anger over my pulled sweater.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
He gently led me from the trees, to the edge of a precipice. The drop seemed miles below. Twinkling lights and movement and a distant sound of laughter rose from the world beneath us.
A dull thud sounded from below, and a gasp rang out from the distant crowd. A red starburst filled the sky, followed by a yellow. The rattle of the fireworks barraged my ears, but I was too awestruck to notice. They blazed and dazzled before me, as I stared not up— but out.
“John, this is amaz…” I gasped. My fingers covering my lips.