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The entire year led up to this, as surely as gravity led downhill. Unless one was fighting on that mountaintop shrine, Isabelle mused with a smile. But this wasn't Smash, this was a quiet island town, and it was her job to arrange everything for the new year.
The fireworks requests this year were audacious as always, mishmashes of colors and words, but she had submitted them to the experts, filed and sorted. It was out of her paws, making room for the box of poppers to log as received.
She looked forward to seeing everyone's firework-illuminated smiles this year.