New Year’s Eve, 2013

The living room, actually, the living room and the kitchen and the front porch and the backyard are all packed with young women and men. They’re all here to celebrate, whether they’re drinking to burn away the old calendar’s misgivings or to praise it’s fortune, they’re all here to celebrate the new year’s potential. The band plays, the youth dance, the bottles pop, and you’re high. Grooving in a stand-still kind of way, only because there’s so many people making it impolite to move around too much; grooving in a stand-still kind of way, the ground is where your gaze lingers most. Light is glinting off the guitar and dark feet shuffle in the background. You’re mesmerized, and drunk, and the whole scene is cinematic. Elation, euphoria, ecstasy. “Lay me down, Cut me off.” The song fades out, the crowd claps and whistles and shouts, and the room you’re in is real again.