Thank you, Heros

July 4th, 2022

*BOOM*

Fire works had been going off all week. It happened every year, but this time it was different. The holidays hadn't felt the same the last few years. Growing up is one reason, but covid is no doubt the leading cause for my lack of excitement last year, and my disappointment 2 years ago. But this year was different. Quarantine was practically over. The covid mandates had been lifted in my state, and we were free to celebrate.

They were holding a fire work show at the park this year, and with dad out of work, it's all we can hope for. We can't light them ourselves this year, but I'm happy to be able to celebrate with my family. It feels like it's been ages. Cousin John, uncle Bailey, aunt Heather, the twins Jack and Jason with uncle Michael . . . It's gonna be nice celebrating as a family. Grandma can't come this year because of her health, but I'll grab a souvenir for her. Maybe I'll get her a mask, lol!

"You coming, Dante!?" A gruff voiced yelled out from somewhere in the house.

"Give me a second!"

"You ain't got a second! We're leaving now!"

"Okay, okay! Im hurrying!"

I'll definitely have to get grandma a mask! What better way to represent the recent times? Anyway, this is the end for now. I gotta get going.

As the shrimpy looking boy put down his pen and got up from his chair, he took another look at his journal. So many memories . . . Some of which he'd hope would go away, but the longer he looked at it, the more he felt indebted to it. He retreated slowly from his desk, but before he could exit the cramped room, he turned back and quickly stashed the small book in his pocket, as well as a fresh pen.

"Hurry your ass, Dante!"

"I'm right here, Asmodeous! Jeez, no need to yell." The runt hollered back as he approached the small car.

"Dads been waiting for you."

"Sorry dad . . ."

An older man, more resembling the bulky frame of the elder son, nodded slowly in dismissal. His resemblance to the eldest son was uncanny. They could be mistaken for brothers if the old man wasn't 20 years older then the young 20 year old. He, unlike Asmodeous, was going grey. Stress, fatigue and anguish all took part in aging his soul, and in turn, his body.

The kids got in the car, the older son in the back and the younger in the front. Dads orders.

"How've you been, Dante? We live in the same house but I hardly see you."

"I've been good."

There was a silence in the car after the short response. It was broken, thankfully, by Asmodeous who could sense the tension brewing.

"Well I know I've been exhauuusted recently. My job has me working like CRAZY and it's hard to keep up, you know?" He could sense the tension, he could break the silence, but he couldn't say anything to lighten the mood.