My Cardboard Balcony

All the Noise by Belinda Roddie The crackling crunch of fireworks as the asphalt splits beneath my shoes. The bubbling cider down my gullet on a dry, dry New Year's Eve. These old acquaintances are forgot and never brought to mind. They leave words in my head like drums, the percussion repeating as endlessly as the DJs' screech of bass blasts. Cacophony, insanity, the beginning of the same.

"Lord," intoned Darcy, much to everyone else's amusement, "have mercy on me this upcoming year. A house without a rat problem and a dog that doesn't have three tumors in his ears would be really, greatly appreciated." "2014 was not a good year for you, huh, Darcy?" Yasmin laughed, lounging in the corner with a very large bottle of beer. "This just hasn't been a good decade," Darcy corrected. "But hey, maybe the halfway point means a turnaround in fortune."