Fairy lights reflected on the wine glass half-filled with Chardonnay. It was the last dinner of 2020 and the island was bright and merry. My plate was filled with seafood I have not tasted for almost a year: salmon, crabs, prawns, and lobster. I devoured the food like I’ve never tasted food before. I was grateful to be able to eat something exceptional just before the blurry 2020 leaves. And with the sumptuous meal in front of me, I tried to forget that I’ve been eating boiled eggs daily for the last eight months for breakfast.
I felt like 2020 was composed of just six months. January, February, March, Lockdown, November, and December. Everything in between March and November seemed as blurred as the light’s reflection on the midnight sea, stirred by the ever-changing current.
The whole month of December was unexplainably hectic. I felt like I was in a dream running away from something or someone, running out of time, running out of place. It was all a haze. My time was split between singing, playing guitar, organizing a fashion show, collecting hundred and twenty pieces of flowers in a day, digging sand, guiding people underwater, and all other things that are not on my job description.
Tough times bring out the best and worse in people and 2020 was like a hard test in which nobody has prepared. The items in the exam were not taught throughout the semester and nobody had a clue on how to proceed. With people put to test, I have seen who can I rely on in times of trouble and who’s the first to run away.
The 31st was supposed to be a night of celebration and also a time for reflection but non happened since my mind was fogged with exhaustion and a bit of white wine.
And there we were, four souls with busted bodies and tired minds sitting sleepy-eyed under the blanket of shiny, shiny, stars twinkling in the dark sky, discussing the mundane while waiting for the change of the year. The wind picked up, I shivered. The guests of the resort danced till they dropped. Glasses of bubbly overflowed. Some were consumed. Some were left to warm on the glasses. Some were spilled into the sandy dance floor.
I slept just after midnight, after washing away the dark smudges left by the eyeliner and mascara underneath my eyes. I woke up the next morning. It was a new year. But everything else remained the same. Boiled eggs were still served for breakfast.
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