It’s morning, after eight but before nine, and I’m sitting on the floor in a dark kitchen listening to the steady hum of the fridge while the cat weave between my legs as he hunts for cuddles, before he flings himself to the floor and attacks my foot instead. Wine is most likely still pulsing through my bloodstream, thinning and fading with every hour — it’s a far stretch from early night when it would pulse with heavy force through me as I waved my sparklers in the air, head thrown back laughing, hugging the group of friends I’d crawled out of the woodwork to be with for the night, taking polaroid pictures to capture the mood and emotions humming in the air as we all wished each other a happy new year and hoping that this new year, too, will be even greater than any year that came before it.
It’s eeriely quiet now, a vast contrast to the celebratory night that came before this new morning; the fridge has quit humming and the cat has been allowed to go back outside now that the fireworks are over and done with — I can hear myself breathing and the ticking sound of the clock that is usually so low I never detect it is now so audible I can hear every tick-tick as it keeps track of the time that so often just flies past.
Now, for a few precious hours, my little world is completely quiet, as if it’s gathering itself before embarking on a brand new year.
Happy new year from me to you, I hope it’s a good one filled with love and laughter, and good health. Here’s to a spectacular 2016!