Fireworks

They blossomed in the night sky, all around the world, some from organised, official displays, some from back gardens and on street corners. The patterns they made left imprints against the blackness, long after the lights themselves had faded. The bangs ran in ears, competing at times against the ringing of bells, pealing out over the night, a cacophony of light and sound that heralded the celebration of this momentous event.

It felt like it was happening all at once, in so many different places. It felt spontaneous, joyous, like the best thing in the world, like nobody had ever lived before her. And really, had they? It didn't feel like that anymore. It felt like it had been a life half lived, and only now could anyone appreciate the beauty and joy of life. And there were others there, right there, appreciating it as well. She could feel them, almost touch them.

And all the while, the fireworks continued.