In the distance I hear firecrackers.
Ever so faintly. Above the low-frequency hum of the nighttime metropolis. Above the fresh winter breeze forced to filter through two buildings. Above the occasional friction of rubber over road or air over aluminium. Above the gentle murmur emanating from a block or two away; the happy neighbourhood couple just about ready to exchange their daily ritual for a few short hours of rest.
Above all this, in the distance, the sizzling and popping of the firecrackers remain. Eventually they cease, a spectacle to a select few, yet a mere pinprick to most within their audible radius.
Did I see the firecrackers?
Will I see the crackers in the future should they fire up again?
Only if I open the fucking window and take a look outside.