The First New Year
by Mabel Fish
The Roaring Twenties theme is disorientating, the past nested within the present, both
tucked inside the future like Matryoshka dolls. She gravitates to the expansive windows as the countdown begins, diamonds sparkling in the infinite black. Memories slam into her hard and fast.
‘Five!’ Fresh-cut grass, ribs on the grill, summer in November.
‘Four!’ The Himalayas, a blanket beneath her, back when planes still filled the skies.
‘Three!’ Her husband clinging to her hand at the end, a victim of the poisoned air.
‘Two!’ An interrogation disguised as an interview, forcing her to prove her intelligence,
fertility, and wealth.
‘One!’ The long journey into the unknown with fifty strangers, one soon to father her child.
‘Happy New Year,’ Eve whispers, raising her glass to the sky, hand resting protectively on her belly. A toast to a fragile future under The Dome, as the old world burns to ash below.
Mabel is a Brit in New York with a restless spirit and a love of great stories. She has recently started writing short form fiction in an unsuccessful bid to escape reality.
This story was shortlisted in the January 25 Monthly Micro Competition.