Writing on The Dock of The Bay
As the clock approached midnight, Santos lifted himself out of bed. Sylvia was at the window in her nightie watching the lights of the boats on the water. They heard footsteps on the dock and people gathering as the clock wound down . . . or was it up? Santos could never figure that out - at some point in life, the uphill climb maybe leveled out for awhile and then somewhere along the way actually became a downhill slope and then . . . and then it was like that line in The Sun Also Rises: slowly at first, then all at once. Maybe that was it. Why did Santos suddenly remember that line from 40 years ago, in a book written 80 years back, as he stood in the window with midnight approaching next to a woman he'd been with for 43 years? Down on the dock, a voice shouted - Happy New Year! Another answered - Happy New Year to you! Fireworks flared above the City and if you looked just right, peering through the windows of a two story houseboat down the way you could see a showering of red and blue and gold as rockets peaked, exploded, and descended in remnants of color against the dark sky. Santos reached for Sylvia. She smiled, so lovely in the moonlight, as they kissed and welcomed in another new year together.