New Year Firework

Nick and I heard a loud bang; we figured one of the fireworks exploded. There was commotion outside. We could see employees in black long sleeve shirts running to gather with the crowded circle. One of the girls screamed as we got closer. “What’s going on?” Nick pushed through the crowd’s shoulders to see Francis gripping his wrist with the other hand. He was on the floor crippled in pain, his eyes closed in shock. A rogue firework mangled the hand of the Head Chef’s assistant.

A few of us stood in silence while we watched the blue lights on an ambulance getting smaller and smaller as it drove further away. The wailing sirens faded, taking Francis with it. I felt conflicted; I was in a brilliant position to fill in place as the Head Chef’s second hand but at the same time, I knew I should sympathise with Francis’s misfortune.

I threw my covers off the bed- it was too hot and I couldn’t sleep. Before I left Loch Fyne Barn, Nick told me that his door was open, a place for me to practise cooking. He explained that I will be serving over 100 wedding guests and that I should go home first to consider the risks. He was making a joke out of the dire situation. I sat up straight, and stared at the moon illuminating 3 jars of weed sitting on my window sill. There is a risk if I took on this new path; Ando’s brother is going to kill us.

The End

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