The crisp ocean air blew into my face and as the boat drifted towards our dock. The night had been magical. We watched fireworks crack over the Hudson river in the one and only New York City. I was up on the balcony as we lazily drifted a shore. The light from Brooklyn bridge kissed the fog of the night sky where, not even the brightest stars where anywhere to be seen. It had been empty on the balcony because everyone went down stairs once the rain had started. Covering my camera with my raincoat, my arms got drenched and the rain slipped through my hood and down my back. Dripping of my face and my smiling mouth. I felt the rock of the boat as we docked for the night. Sliding my hands down the railing I pushed past the crowd of people who where getting off. The booming of the fireworks echoed in my mind, load and thunderous. The rain blocked my eyes as I felt my blurry way. I met back up with my parents outside of the boat. “Cigarette Daydream” blasted through my headphones as we trudged along the streets of Queens. The rain had long ago drenched my tennis shoes, but now I was starting to feel it in slushing between my toes, like little river rushing into my heel than back down to my toes when I walked.