@hyckss: I like the pretty lights ( little!wes? )
inbox content: the crow random starters.
“they’re called fireworks, buddy,” and it’s never too early for some people to start shooting them off. the sun’s barely set, but woodsboro’s sky is fully illuminated. sam guesses it’s a blessing in disguise; wes is too little to stay up to watch the town’s official fireworks display, so sitting out on the hicks’ lawn, icy pops in hand is a pretty good way to send off the holiday.
getting wes to bed after all this excitement (and with the nearly consistent, explosive cacophony) should be ... interesting, but his mom doesn’t return until the morning. if he’s asleep an hour later than normal, well, no one needs to know.
“the mosquitoes aren’t bugging you too bad, are they? we can go in whenever you want,” a beat, before sam makes her job undoubtedly harder with this next offer: “you want another icy pop while we wait for some more fireworks?”
