June 04, 2006

I told her about nights filled with daring, booze-fuelled explosions.

“After Bryan finished consuming a prodigious amount of alcohol on Dave’s patio, he loaded his backpack with fireworks and beer. I put a lighter in my pocket and we stumbled through empty fields and high grass towards the lakeshore. The night was blue and silent and we were fucking exciting about setting fire to things.

“Bryan unleashed the first firework by the harbour. The stupid thing just bounced about a couple of times before finding its way into the bushes where it fizzled into a whirlwind of smoke.

“On the water’s edge, Bryan handed me a sparkler. We showered the night in bright, burning sparkles and felt festive as fuck. Bryan kept digging into his bags until he found the beers. He took a couple of healthy gulps before walking down the beach with a firework under his arm. He crouched in darkness for a second, and after a few sparks, a huge howl broke into the air, and a fragment of thunder flickered above us.

“‘Wow,’ we yipped, exhilarated. The geese were scared shitless and fled into the night.

“Again and again Bryan made the sky bleed fire. For the finale he unleashed a small barrel of fireworks on the deserted beach. Colours flew everywhere blinding our senses, and Bryan fell backwards amongst the rocks, his eyes wide with wonder.

“We sat on rough stones for a long time afterwards to listen to the waves. We felt awake and alive, yet somehow the night seemed to overflow with that awful, heavy desperation you feel when you have nothing left to lose. We talked of dreams and suicides, as the city flickered in the distance. There were long pauses when I didn’t know what to say.

“But sound of the waves felt right. And after a night filled with fire, I fled towards an island to throw my naked body against cold, biting waves.”