Someone stole two of the large golden, fabric and wire flowers from the roundabout at the entrance of town; surprisingly, they didn’t take the giant green and yellow dragonfly standing nearby. Someone else has place a hand painted sign in the emptiness, calling for, in bright red letters, shame on the un-named perpetrator.
Anna sits at the kitchen table in her midnight-blue sparkly party dress. She’s wearing a brand new pair of black tights, high heels she has never tried to walk in before and a simple, but very elegant, string of pearls around her neck. She is alone. Her boyfriend is upstairs sleeping, in front of her is a plate of chopped endives.
On the other side of town, Charles is woken from his slumber to sell wine to the first customer of the year. The only movement in the vineyard is the cat. When he arrives, Charles pretends to be awake, he is eating an apple but is trying to hide it from his customer.
Up in the hills a group of friends and one stranger stand around a make-shift fire next to the hot spring. The stranger is the only one in the water, but it is cold from the melting snow. Two children carry a branch toward the fire. It is big enough to build a boat.
A police car drives over the bridge and looks at the tyres of the cars parked there. One of the four police has blue eyes.
A dog drops a stick at the feet of the woman walking behind and wags his tail.
The thermometer in my car reads 21c.
It’s just another New Year.
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