I’d never thought about how they would look different from up here. I suppose I just figured they’d look like fireworks. And they do, there’s no mistaking them, but it’s not the same. I almost think it’s better. When the first one launches, it looks like it’s headed straight for us. A missile locked on to our secret location. My knuckles turn white gripping the railing of the airship, certain we are too close, that these are my last moments. I hold my breath.

Vibrant purple explodes into the sky beneath us, twinkling and twirling as it falls back down to earth. The boom radiates through my skeleton and I am thankful I was made to wear earplugs. Two more are sent up, bursting into red and gold and rocking the ship but I am not scared anymore, I lean against the railing so I can feel the flashes of heat on my cheeks with each moment of color. The metal of the railing vibrates along with me, a reminder that I am here, I am alive. And it’s only the beginning of the show. Soon the rockets are sent up in clusters, three at a time, in quick succession. I can’t see them coming as well anymore. The sky beneath us has become dusted with smoke. But the colors, they break through it all, each one brighter than the last. Some fade into twinkles while others spit out one last burst of sparkles.

My body has become so used to the thunder that when it stops my chest trembles. Was that it? Was that the finale? I peer even farther over the railing and a hand takes my shoulder, pulls me back. A kind stranger shakes his head at me, then motions for me to wait. A second passes. Then a flash brighter than all the others rocks the ship. There’s hardly a moment to process the brilliance of the pure white before the colors join it, all of the colors, and I am at the railing again, my ears ringing despite the earplugs. Flash after flash after flash, there is no room to see the space below, everywhere I look there is some exploding red or green. Just when I am beginning to think it is becoming too much, it ends. The smoke rises around us and my skin is left buzzing. I imagine there are cheers down below, even all around me up here, from the other spectators. I can’t hear them. People begin to move back inside the ship. The stranger from before nods a goodbye. I lower myself to the metal floor of the viewing deck. I know I should go back inside, get away from the smoke and out of the cold. But I swear, in gray of the night sky beneath us, I still see echoes of the fireworks. Noiseless and muted in color, but still beautiful to behold.