Many things rushed to my head when “New Year” was mentioned. Indeed, there is more than one “New Year” in the calendar. Crimson paper cuttings, windy moonlit nights, worn mittens, oily dishes forever rotating on the round tables, talking crowds, emptied wine cups…
Or sometimes, nothing but darkness and silence. Especially after the midnight clock strikes and the blast of fireworks sounds from near and far away.
Everyone eventually went to sleep.
Under the foggy moonlight, I tried hard to tell the differences between certain days from many other “mediocre” ones.