twentyfifteen.

To you and I: Happy New Year.

To the gentleman across the street, whose chronic depression has gotten the better of him time and time again: "Happy" New Year.

To the single mother on her third shift at the fast food joint, still working overtime to support her family, to whom the monotony of her job has become akin to a working hazard: Happy "New" Year.

To the little girl in the Intensive Care Unit, whose cells continue to multiply cancerously, and to whom the doctors have asked for last wishes: Happy New "Year".

4 comments:

RANDOMOSITY (is that a word?)

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