The Remarkable Rocket

My eyes were on the sky, my breath was almost still, I was standing there, transfixed. The cracking sounds that made their way to me felt like thousands of champagne bottles popping and letting the bubbly fluid out. And the skies were burning, the air was green. Yes, fireworks!

The people of Plzen seem really set on chasing daemons away, almost every week there is a firework some where in town. This time there was a really big one to celebrate the liberation of the city by American troupes on May 6th 1945, the only city in the Eastern blocks to have seen the freedom bringing American tanks.

The festivities usually last for a week : you see tanks, army trucks, veterans, fighter jets scene reenactments, and at the end, fireworks, maybe a reminder of the guns and cannons heard during the war, but this time, friendly fire only.

I was really sorry I couldn't take pictures, we were out for pizzas only so I had no camera. As pretty as a picture is and even thought it holds a thousand words, my glee is not encompassed in it. I am a kid looking at the fireworks. I love the sound and even the smell they sometimes leave behind. Lucky me, I live in a town with a huge firework budget. If they also had Auroras, I'd be in heaven (maybe literally; the Eskimos thought that Auroras where the time when the dead came back to communicate with the living).

While watching the fireworks I had in mind the discussions between the fireworks in the story by Oscar Wilde I read when I was a kid. But these fireworks were not as vain as the one in the story and ignited to make a whole town happy to be alive and for an instant maybe, feeling like they are living good times.

PS. This year I plan to go here.