She twirls in the mirror, the silken skirt swishes around her knees with a gentle sigh, then falls still. Hand reaches to brush her gold hair for the last time before she sprays it with a fine mist. Lastly, a hint of colour to her lips and she is ready. One last look in the mirror tells her that she looks lovely tonight. Slowly she closes her eyes as though in prayer then, with a determined nod of her head she leaves the room and heads off to the party.
Smile and walk. Hold glass tightly to breast. Keep moving.
“Yes, lovely isn’t it? Wonderful food”.
Dancers glide. Laughter rings. Stand in corner. Still.
Glasses are charged and raised, the countdown begins. She is pulled from the shadows, smile firmly fixed into place. “Three, Two, One.. Happy New Year!”
Emptiness.
Couples gaze, whispers of promises made. Soft kisses exchanged.
Pain.
She slips away as the crowd link arms in preparation for “Auld Lang Syne”. Nobody notices her leave, so entranced are they by the colourful images of the brand new year, bursting like bubbles in each other’s eyes.
Home. Slips off coat and shoes, places evening bag on the bed. Looks in the mirror.
Emptiness.
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