Standing feet away from easy death, I watch the pyrotechnic show before me: eyes glued to the sky. The only sound greater than the ”pops” and ”crackles” from the explosions is the long and slow roar from trains passing by. I watch the crowds below push and shove; insisting on standing on top of one another, essentially swimming around in a pool of humans. Watching this made me wonder if the real ”american” show was on the ground, not in the sky.
