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?