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Happy New Year, Indeed.

Flemzo · 2007-12-23T16:52:30Z

I usually don't do holiday stuff, but this ran through my mind more than once, so here it goes. ---------------------------------------- "Five minutes to midnight!" The people were milling around in the living room of the Dayton House, the former home of a millionaire department store owner now turned historical landmark. A friend of mine rented it out for their New Year's Eve party. It was a "black, white, or silver formal", so I spent twenty minutes trying to find something acceptable to wear. The party started around six o'clock, so everyone had been there for a while, drinking champagne, eating hors d'oeuvres, and mingling with others. Everyone, that is, except me. I've never been good at social functions. I never know what to say to people. They tell me to be myself, but Myself would rather spend the evening alone, watching the ball drop on television. I try to be sociable, but it always seems to go wrong. I had my eye on this lovely young woman for most of the night, but I was too scared to go talk to her. Instead, I held a few awkward conversations with a few different groups of people, drank a little too much champagne, and told myself that I was going home at midnight. And here it was, five minutes until I could finally go home. I had been sitting by myself for most of the evening, which suited me just fine. A few passing greetings were exchanged, and I decided to get ready to go home. I had one final glass of champagne and another cheese cube, went to the bathroom, then made my way to the door. "One minute to midnight!" I heard the call come from the living room, and figured I could at least stay until they rang in the new year. "Thirty seconds!" I settled myself into a corner and watched rushed near the clock. I slowly noticed people coupling up, and realized that my loneliness would soon become painfully apparent. "Ten... nine... eight..." The countdown started. The couples were getting excited. I hated them for it. I needed another drink. "Seven... six... five..." The moment of truth. Hands were holding hands, arms were wrapped around waists, and I was getting a cigarette ready to smoke once I got outside. "Four... three... two..." I got up, put the cigarette in my mouth, and headed toward the door. "One... Happy New Year!" Party favor noises and cheers filled the air. I looked back and saw the couples do their midnight kisses. "Happy fucking new year," I mumbled and walked out the door. As I lit up, I heard the door slam shut behind me. I turned and saw a girl I had been admiring for a while run toward me, her plain white dress trailing through the snow and mud. "Hey!" she shouted. "Don't go!" Before I could say anything, she knocked the cigarette out of my mouth, threw her arms around me, and smashed her lips into mine. It was a bizarre feeling; her kiss didn't feel like a kiss of necessity, like she felt sorry for me since I was alone most of the evening. Her kiss felt like, for that moment, we were two lovers without a care in the world, and everything was fine between us, and we would be together forever. And in a moment, she was gone, running back to the house for the rest of the party. I looked to where my cigarette fell, and decided that it would be too wet to continue smoking. I glanced up as the door to the house slammed shut, and looked back to the cigarette, it's glowing orange tip being extinguished before i could stamp it out. I sighed. I've never been much for symbols, but the cigarette had an eerie foreshadowing quality that I just couldn't ignore. Slowly, I got in my car, cursed the new year, and drove home.

lakegirls

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Points 248

Reviews 135

Thu Feb 07, 2008 10:18 pm

lakegirls says... · Thu Feb 07, 2008 10:18 pm

Hi,
Very well done. It was short and sweet. It's nice once in a while to read stories like this. There is not much else I can say. I thought he was going to go back into the party after she kissed him.

Why did she just come out and kiss him? Was it for pity?

My favorite line had to be:

The countdown started. The couples were getting excited. I hated them for it. I needed another drink.

It was funny.

-lg*

Writing is the only thing that, when I do it, I don't feel I should be doing something else.
-Gloria Steinem

Quote

“A good book isn't written, it's rewritten.”
— Phyllis A. Whitney, Guide to Fiction Writing

Happy New Year, Indeed.

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