There were people everywhere. People laughing; frivolty being passed around in the form of colourful outfits and glowing accessories.
A silhouette of trees lines the horizon as he stares out into an unusually warm November night. In the background he hears a track playing, slowing down, all instruments disappearing and a steady tap makes its away across the left then right channels repeatedly. The tap reminded him of the thick, misty, and uncannily beautiful forests in Braunfels.
The dark sky exploded into a hundred differnet colours. The thunder was more felt than heard.
In the park, the firworks lit the sky. At the end of what was a miserable week he was reminded that much greater things exist and matter. He stood and contemplated in awe the strength of the sound that shook his insides. His problems all shrank to inconsequential weight.
It was a good night. An we have a centuries-old evil plot to thank.
