“Ten, Nine, Eight.”
My eyes were bloodshot. I didn’t bother counting with everyone.
“Seven, Six, Five.”
I was tired of this already. I watched the same couples holding each other. Ready for their midnight kiss.
Everyone held up champagne. I cried.
“One. Happy New Year!”
The clock hit 0:00, balloons fell, and the 1999 banner dropped to reveal another in it’s place. It read “Year 1999.”
The new year. The same year.
I wept alone.
The cycle would never be broken.