New Year...2005.
His cry startled her at first-- she looked about and found him leaning into the brick wall behind her-- it was a cry of anguish, she realized. It was a strange sound to hear on a night of celebration. Stranger still, she felt concern for him, and it impulsively fired her heart.
“You alright, mate?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he gasped. He shrank back from the attention, holding to the anonymity of the shadows. The shadows chilled her more than the winter night; she hugged herself tighter and peered at him. The darkness obscured the finer features of his face, but she could tell some of his expressions in the bit of lamplight from the lot.
“Too much to drink?” she queried.
“Something like that,” he replied, but he addressed her soberly.
“Maybe it’s time you went home,” she suggested. She quickly calculated how close she was to her building and safety. Not a night to encounter a stranger, alone. It was a cold night, dead cold without wind.
“Yeah.” The man said again, and nodded. He didn’t move.
“Anyway,” she continued. Despite herself, a genuine smile came to her face, and she added, “Happy New Year.”
“And you.”
Still unsure what to make of the exchange, she decided to forgo her intended walk, and began the crunchy way to her building. The man tugged at her thoughts, and she almost stopped to ask again if he was alright.
“What year is this?” he inquired suddenly.
Startled, she stopped and turned, still hugging herself in her thin jacket.
“Blimey! How much have you had?” she blurted out and eyed him. The same concern still touched her heart, but she simply smiled to make light of the situation. He shrugged, as much as she could tell, and mumbled something, so she decided to let her question go.
“It’s January the 1st, 2005.”
“2005,” he repeated thoughtfully.
She merely nodded. Silence reigned for a space before he said emotionally, “I bet you’re gonna have a really great year.”
Surprised at the certainty, she couldn’t help but blink and smile. To be honest, she didn’t much think this year would amount to all that. After all, she was dating a mechanic, and she lived with her mum still. At nineteen years of age, she felt destined to live in a cycle of nothing.
“Yeah?” she said, amusement in her voice.
He smirked. She looked away, bashful for a moment, then she returned to him with a grin. For some reason, he had lightened something within her.
In the same bashfulness, Rose turned and jogged lightly to the door of her building, entered, and took a step or two. She paused, bent to steal a glance at the figure in the shadows through the grimy window, and smiled again. A really great year, huh? She entertained it, her thoughts edged with hope. May be.
“You alright, mate?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he gasped. He shrank back from the attention, holding to the anonymity of the shadows. The shadows chilled her more than the winter night; she hugged herself tighter and peered at him. The darkness obscured the finer features of his face, but she could tell some of his expressions in the bit of lamplight from the lot.
“Too much to drink?” she queried.
“Something like that,” he replied, but he addressed her soberly.
“Maybe it’s time you went home,” she suggested. She quickly calculated how close she was to her building and safety. Not a night to encounter a stranger, alone. It was a cold night, dead cold without wind.
“Yeah.” The man said again, and nodded. He didn’t move.
“Anyway,” she continued. Despite herself, a genuine smile came to her face, and she added, “Happy New Year.”
“And you.”
Still unsure what to make of the exchange, she decided to forgo her intended walk, and began the crunchy way to her building. The man tugged at her thoughts, and she almost stopped to ask again if he was alright.
“What year is this?” he inquired suddenly.
Startled, she stopped and turned, still hugging herself in her thin jacket.
“Blimey! How much have you had?” she blurted out and eyed him. The same concern still touched her heart, but she simply smiled to make light of the situation. He shrugged, as much as she could tell, and mumbled something, so she decided to let her question go.
“It’s January the 1st, 2005.”
“2005,” he repeated thoughtfully.
She merely nodded. Silence reigned for a space before he said emotionally, “I bet you’re gonna have a really great year.”
Surprised at the certainty, she couldn’t help but blink and smile. To be honest, she didn’t much think this year would amount to all that. After all, she was dating a mechanic, and she lived with her mum still. At nineteen years of age, she felt destined to live in a cycle of nothing.
“Yeah?” she said, amusement in her voice.
He smirked. She looked away, bashful for a moment, then she returned to him with a grin. For some reason, he had lightened something within her.
In the same bashfulness, Rose turned and jogged lightly to the door of her building, entered, and took a step or two. She paused, bent to steal a glance at the figure in the shadows through the grimy window, and smiled again. A really great year, huh? She entertained it, her thoughts edged with hope. May be.