My left breast is getting squished against the window pane and the window-ledge pokes in
Foto: Louwrens Ellens
my ribs as the three of us are watching the fireworks that are being lit up over our city. Our view is perfect. On the left shines the New Years Cheer from the Market, in front bangs the neighbor with his fireworks and on the right the West Harbour shoots decorations our way. With the ultimate feeling of happiness, we smile at all those lights and glitter who define the start of 2009.
Sixteen hours, over fifty beers and at least ten glasses of champagne later, you start the first day of the new year by stepping out of your bed when it is already getting dark outside again. In the fridge of the house where you slept is no solid food to be found, but luckily your friend has some leftovers that she is happy to share with you. Tomato soup and brie cheese, all a person needs. With your scars tucked in firmly and your collar high up, you carefully enter the world of the living.
And then you smell it. Smoldering fireworks, the thaw that is being deployed and everything that belongs to the lovely smell that spreads the new years. I take a deep sniff and enter 2009 in good spirit.