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Firework Riots in France and A Lovely Sunday Stroll.


A voice screamed.


The sound boomed, breaking the silent night.

Sleep jumped out of my body 

And my eyes darted in the dark.  

Mind and heart raced at twin speed as I shifted the curtains slightly.  

Fireworks light up the dark

A boy scaled a fence twice his height.  

Three police officers crept down the alleyway, guns pointing, heads turning, eyes searching. 

The breeze blew the leaves over the boy hiding. 

The police finds nothing.

The night is quiet again, then.



This time,

at least fifteen police officers carrying fifteen guns crept down the alleyway.

They split into two groups when they approached the corner, and talked with their hands.

They rounded the corner in threes. An officer lost his footing and tumbled. His partner helped him up and they went on their way searching for the firework rebels. 

None of them should be out here at this time of night. They should all be at home.

I went back to bed, but sleep refused to return. 

In the morning, I walked to the window.

An older couple walked hand in hand, 

Two boys, obviously different in age but are dressed like twins, chased each other down the alleyway.

They run through the ghost of the 

the boy and the fence 

the police officers and the guns

the voice and the fireworks that sounded like gunshots.

I don’t think it is safe out there, 

but I don’t want to be trapped in here. 

I don’t want last night to steal today.

I am tired. But I’m alive… so

We leave the apartment.

Markolee hopscotched

The family watched a group of men play a passionate game of soccer. 

We crossed this bridge several times before, but this was the first time, water flowed out of the canal. 

A family, celebrating a birthday, played tug of war.

I sauntered through a garden, 

And drank water from a fountain. 

Until Next time,

Live your life between the extremes.

And Be Well, my friends.


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