I’d told Jen I’d be fine. I had my pills and could play loud music through my earbuds to drown the bangs. We’d told the kids I was staying behind to keep the dogs company; Pickle had always been frightened of fireworks.
Except, now she was deaf.
It was a blessing, not having to watch her panting and shaking and fearful. Was that how Jen felt about me?
So, Pickle snored in her bed, while I and our newly adopted rescue trembled together. envisaging earth and limbs thrown up by each detonation.