July 4th was a blast, a bust, and a bang. In that order.
Ralph has a lot of experience with fireworks, so I agreed to let him do the honors. On my count, he launched the first batch.
I should have realized that fireworks would also send me into the flashback of my childhood run-in with the hunters. In my dream, I felt the bullet hit my leg, but this time, I turned around and dove on top of the hunter and his gun. When I woke up, I had a big hole in my side where the fireworks had exploded.
To my delight, Dr. Mary Bear was tending to my wounds once again. I gazed deep into her eyes, as brown as nutrient-rich dirt.
“I’ve been seeing too much of you recently,” she quipped.
“Well, you can see a lot more if you’d like.”
She did. I’ll leave the rest to your imaginations, though I would like to add that some more fireworks went off, and again, I was blown away.
On another note, I received a letter from my estranged father today. After mom gave up her combination-diner-and-adult-video-store outside of Hackettstown and ran away, never to be heard from again, my father went off the deep end and moved down to Tennessee. This is the first time he has contacted me since he left eleven years ago.
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