On Spring Festival's Eve, the loudest, liveliest spot is always wherever the kids are setting off firecrackers…
On Spring Festival's Eve, the loudest, liveliest spot is always wherever the kids are setting off firecrackers.
The ones covering their ears still inch closer. The ones hanging back complain they can't see. And the ones who get too close jump out of their skin.
Firecrackers have a way of picking their moment. Just when no one's ready—bang!
Years pass. The kids grow up and drift apart. On many silent nights, in those predawn hours when even the wind is asleep, that loud crack still comes back, knocking at their hearts again and again.