At midnight, my neighbors started shooting off guns.

I assume it was neighbors. Maybe not my direct neighbors, but someone in the area. Maybe on the other side of the hill.

The point is, someone right nearby started off the new year in style, with small arms fire.

For myself, I’d been watching episodes of Father Ted to ring in the new year. I had a box of Triskets and a block of Pepper Jack cheese. And I had a bottle of a champagne-like thing that I picked up at the liquor store on my way home from work.

I don’t have champagne flutes — frankly, I have no real use for them — so I drank the wine from a pint glass.

I quickly discovered that I’m not a fan.

But it’s tradition. Even if I spent New Years at home, watching Father Ted.

The small arms fire subsided by fifteen minutes past midnight.

There were police sirens in the distance.

A gloomy fog descended on Pennsylvania.

I went to sleep.

Hello, 2016!


Taken from The Daily Post‘s “Stroke of Midnight” prompt.

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