The Festival

The people there were unexpected, they wore face paint, and had very uncanny costumes, then suddenly an ominous silence was followed by the bong of a heavy instrument. Soon, an abstract sight stole all my attention, and shots of sparkling color went up into the air, and dispersed, like pollen from flowers. The stinging in my ears was trailed by a popping sound which I really couldn't place but, it resembled heavy rain falling on zinc. Only to disappear. I knew how fireworks were made, it's components, when it was for the use of destruction but, this was probably the first time, for me, seeing them so close up, making me wonder how much of my childhood I really missed. Was the world really that interesting while I locked myself away from everyone, watching the fireworks from my window all those years ago?