Fireworks
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Some fool outside is letting off one big burst of firecrackers after another. It isn't dark, so it's not like he can get a very good look at them bursting in air. What's more, it's the fifth of July. Woo-hoo! The Fifth of July! Or maybe Cinco de Julio—he's getting his holidays all mixed up. Or maybe he didn't have the fireworks yesterday—maybe he got some strange deal, some huge discount for buying them this afternoon. He likes to risk blowing off his hands just like everyone else but he's just a cheapskate and can't bring himself to tempt fate unless he can do so from a clearance rack. So here he goes, blasting off another round of the ridiculous things, a street or two over, before the sun has gone down, on the day after Independence Day. Or on Cinco de Julio. (Venezuelan Independence Day?)
Maybe he's just an idiot. That would also explain why the sound of a car alarm keeps emanating from the same general direction, as if the owner keeps setting of the alarm himself and after six or seven or thirty-eight iterations of the honking horn, he manages to shut it off, only to repeat the process nine minutes later. It has managed to stay quite for a while so no more fireworks for the moment, but now, of course, we have a new sound to add to the neighborhood cacophony: the siren of an ambulance. Maybe the fool finally triumphed in his struggle to become one-handed. Managed to modify himself—single-handedly!
Our hero, it would seem, has not succeeded. The siren went somewhere distant and another round of firecrackers just shot off. If he tries hard he might get through the whole supply while the sun is still up.
spring baseball in Detroit
Do Not Disturb
