Remember

A girl waits in a house, the dark pressing cold against the windows. She knows the glass will keep the dark outside. She hears the distant popping of fireworks. Later her father will let off rockets, roman candles and catherine wheels in the garden and she and her friends will shriek and gasp, and write their names in the air with sparklers, bright lines etched on the retina for a moment then gone. The garden will be damp and cold and it will be good to get back inside to eat cake and play pass the parcel by the fire. For now she is alone and thinks about her small body, a dot in the vastness of the universe, and then stops thinking of this because it is making her feel like she's falling off something.