Entry 4

December 31st 

I wipe a hand across the condensation accumulating on the glass window of the shower and press my forehead up against it. The lights of New York City blink at me in greeting from behind the layer of breath that’s begun to shade in the hole I drew. Even beneath the blanket of steaming water, I shiver at the sight of the frosty white engulfing the streets below. My toes curl against the smooth quartz tiles beneath them, so different from the rough volcanic floor of the outdoor shower I’d quickly become accustomed to in Hawaii. With the snow falling outside and the merriment of the holidays still fresh in the air, I decide that I like this cold escape. I’m only here for a night, but I wish I could stay longer. I watch the small window I had made in the foggy glass slowly disappear and empathize with it. With midnight comes a new year. They say new year, new me, but I can’t imagine changing more than I already have. Finally, the little window is stolen away by the mist. I blink a silly goodbye to it and turn my back, just in time to hear the walls echo in symphony with the crowd on the TV in the bedroom “5…4…3…2…”