They would never know, down there, the things that had to be done for them to walk around their days without living in fear. And every year there would be fireworks, songs and laughter sent to the sky. The truth was that there was a battle. A battle won without any bloodshed, and without anyone knowing that it happened. It happened when a person stood up against a tyrant. Of winters spent playing in the snow, sliding down hills, an.

Wait for it, he said, his arm around my shoulder, holding me close. I looked straight ahead, not sure what I was waiting for. The sun was setting, and the breeze carried the smell of spring grass on it. I heard it a moment before I realized that the East Village was on fire. It lit up the early evening sky.

However, something about it bothers me, extremely much so. On April 28, 2013.