Untitled as of yet.
an excerpt

Explosions painted the sky, which filled with light almost too bright for Mark’s eyes to bear. He remembered being transfixed by the annual fireworks display in previous years, but this year the magic seemed so much less potent. He sighed and ran a hand through his already-scruffy brown hair, whilst the crowd made appropriate noises of admiration. It was amazing, he thought, how some loud noises and pretty lights could hold thousands of people so mesmerised. Maybe it was the atmosphere, with its signature gunpowder tang and the tense anticipation before the fireworks began. Maybe it was the personal motivations for attending; some went to share the ornamental explosions with their children, others (the bored teenagerly type) went because there was little else to do, or to spend time with their friends, and still more went purely for the nostalgic enjoyment of it. Mark... where did Mark stand? He went this year because that was what he always did. There was never any question of whether he was going, because he always was. He enjoyed it, too. That’s why he kept it up. But this year was different. He couldn’t quite place his finger on what was different about it, much to his chagrin. The question niggled and gnawed at his mind throughout the rest of the display, and he found himself wishing the final bangs and flashes would arrive, so he could leave.