A string of white lights hang in an apartment. The apartment has four walls that are mirrors from floor to ceiling. The apartment has a closet whose doors have mirrored panels. This apartment is nearly empty, save for a table and chairs and a television and a Wii and some speakers and a Cuddlebag and a rug. Some party food sits along the ledge of the northwest window. Some soda sits in the refrigerator.

The apartment waits. It’s ready for a big party to happen.

New Year’s Eve.

We will party. We will nosh. We will fizzy-drink. We will Wii. We will dance.

2009, here we come.

2009. Oh, my gosh.

Am I even ready?