We live in one of those new McMansions. The house was already built when we bought it. Someone's going to buy it and it might as well be us, we reasoned at the time. Our house towers over our neighbors' on both sides, blocking their sunlight. Yet our children play with their children and they invite us to their cookouts. Even after living here for eight months, I still sometimes cringe when I pull into the driveway. Our house just doesn't fit the street. Fortunately for us, our family does.
Big bang boom was going on outside. No reason to suspect terrorists at this particular moment, but then again, who knows one mile from the White House? More bangs, more booms, but no sirens and nothing lighting up the sky. People were starting to gather on 24th Street. Some stared straight ahead to follow the sounds, others looked up.
My husband and I ran into the street.
Someone shouted, "Fireworks." We still didn't know where or why.
It's just harder to celebrate these days.
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