The night, cold only in temperature, put a buzzing warmth into his heart - or was that the beer? He, like plenty of others, enjoyed the beach-side fireworks only with his favorite restaurant’s beer and fried chicken combo. Except he ate alone, enjoying his solitude and the hellish spice in the midst of explosions, chaotic children, and the already stumbling adults. Colors flashed across the night sky and the black ocean alike, and he stood near the back of the crowd waiting for something (or nothing) to happen. Turns out, he need not wait long.
Like dominoes, one person collided into another. The dense crowd moved like a wave and he soon felt someone step on the back of his heels, elbow him accidentally, and spill the beer from his cup. Nearly full, the beer splashed onto his shirt and onto those unfortunately close by; he cursed beneath his breath, clutching onto what was most important - the chicken. “Whoa, excuse me” he snapped, spitefully.
