“Happy New Year’s,” I whisper, the door banging shut behind her.
For a long time I stand at the door, my eyes on the street, my hands tucked into the pockets of a navy hoodie. Pajama bottoms decorated with cameras cover my legs. My feet are stuffed into socks and unicorn slippers. The slippers are courtesy of my aunt.
A rumble rises down the street, headlights swinging as a truck pulls onto Eleventh Street, stopping in front of the shop. There’s something reassuring about the man I know is driving it. He’s strong in a silent, steady way that’s fortifying.
The driver’s side window rolls down.
My lips curve into a smile.