All I see is Fireworks

It was July 3rd & the mosquitoes tasted my sweetness without even buying me dinner first. The aroma of funnel cakes, spicy phillys and buttery roasted corn hit me bearing a taste of the sweet south. As much as I claim to not fit in in this small town, the southern stillness in all the commotion is quite comforting. In the near distance I could hear the traditional band playing all the classic songs that everyone knows but no one really wants to hear. Imagine singing along to the cliche Sweet Home Alabama while simultaneously rolling your eyes. I found myself bursting out into laughter after witnessing a three year old running through the fair grounds wearing Coogie and cowboy boots. He was the palest little thing with brunette hair and with the ability to bring a smile to my face. I'd sat down on the lawn to pull up some grass to catch the fire works. Just as I lifted my feet from under me, the fireworks began to blast away. As loud as the show was, everything went still in my mind. Quiet, bright, & beautiful.