The End

And so we sat on a red tiled roof four stories up, looking out on the town glittering with the streetlights in the dark, and we could have fallen to our deaths but we didn't care, because as we know alcohol sucks the fear from your heart by osmosis. And there we sat arm in arm and you were saying words to me that touched me right in the soul, although I can't remember them precisely because the alcohol blurred them like ink on paper. And though we weren't watching our watches we heard voices crying out across the town, dix, neuf, huit, and the light was all golden, sept, six, cinq,and we held hands I think, quatre, trois, deux, and suddenly the whole year came back to me rolled up in a ball, made small, every thing I saw everything I smelt tasted heard every word I said every word my fingers scratched out, typed out, everything, all at once, cancelling each other out so that in effect it looked like nothing, felt like nothing, un.

Bonne année!

nothing.
everything.
I love.

you.