A New Year

A Simple Dispatch from the Past

January 1st, 2021

I awoke from a dead sleep to the sound of explosions. After a few disorienting moments, I realized where I was, when I was. I was on the couch in my living room. Those explosions were fireworks. Which meant it must be nearly midnight. I sat up, hesitated, then grabbed a cigarette and shuffled outside.

The fireworks continued, though I couldn’t see most of them. I could only hear their arrhythmic, percussive bursts, and the sound of people cheering. I walked down the length of my porch and sat on the steps, looking down into the totally empty street. In the building next door, I could hear a family counting down from ten.

The counting family got to zero and shouted, “Happy New Year!” and then it was done; 2020, the worst year in modern history, was definitively over. In overcrowded hospitals around Los Angeles, people were dying by the hundreds. But there was a light at the…