The heavy silence is pierced by the loud ticking of the clock.
Tick, tick, tick.
From across the room, you hear the quiet rustling of pages as drafts from the heater lift up the corners of the December calendar hanging on the wall. You turn your eyes lazily back to the ceiling, and you return to your thoughts.
The end of the year. There’s a part of you that’s longing for some excitement, something interesting to break the monotony of everyday life.
For in retrospect, each year always feels the same as the last. Despite all the brightness of each individual moment, it all fades into a murky grey with the passing of time.
For once, you want the memories to linger. No matter what it takes, you muse. You’re stunned by the vigor of that fleeting thought, yet still unsurprised when it doesn’t fade. After all, you’ve never been a lover of routine. You’re willing to let go of all of the burden of disappointment, of boredom, of tedium, if the world grants you just one year. One year that you’ll remember, without a shadow of a doubt. One special year.
You close your eyes, and a smile toys at your lips as the clock strikes midnight with twelve soft clangs.
2020 is going to be your year. You’re sure of it.