New year, coming again ?

[ Leoul Zewelde ]

If you ask me, it was the most amusing yet craziest night I remember. Every single one of my friends was drunk and I, I was a little on the tipsy side. The concert we were attending was filled with people that were twirling with a psychotic dance in the streets. Every move they make was too antic.

In all of that craziness though, I was bent half searching in the darkness for a tiny earring. One of the dancers next to me, a girl I haven’t met before had dropped it. I don’t even understand why she wouldn’t let it go. I mean, she wore many stylish jewels, and in my eyes, she already had enough bling on her. Inadvertently, my eyes were pulled to her left hand. No wedding ring. That was the only finger on both her hands that wasn’t adorned by some kind of rings.

ታገኘዋለህ ብለህ ነው? She shouted to surpass the sound of band music. I found myself saying ልሞክር cutie. I have never been this witty. Nor this forward. I looked up into her face and I froze. Her features had some sort of memory in me spiking.

ምን አልከኝ? ... she said. I hesitated to reply again. It must be a trick in my mind. Where would I know her? Why did my heart beat this fast ?

I forced myself to look back down to the ground again and started searching for that tiny eardrop earing, all the while asking myself “What the hell am I doing?”. Because I know these days people mistaken kindness for flirting. Me, I was being both kind and amorous at the same time.

It was an unexplainable adventure and battle to find a tiny earring while being drunk. The search was not that easy. Exploring for a time time that felt like a decade, I finally spotted it blinking in the random concert lights under a filthy use and throw solo cup.

Getting up from where I was kneeling on the dirty ground with the music exploding in my ears, I looked into her bewitching eyes and saw her beautiful yet confused smile directed at me. “You know; you didn’t have to do that” she said.

9 ... 8 ... 7 ... The crowd started to chant, impatient to leave the old year behind.
6 ... 5 ... 4. Yet she didn’t thank me. She looked like a person I used to know in my past life so I pretended like I don’t want any compliment from her.

The crowd continues to count. 3 … 2 … 1.
And then Something explodes. On spur of the moment, I kissed her. It was my ምንም አይደል rejoinder to the ‘thanks’ that I am pretty sure she uttered in silence. With the syrupy kiss lasting for minutes, I transcended time.

Pourquoi j’aime ‘la Nouvelle année’ ?

እንኳን አደረሳችሁ ፤ መልካም አዲሥ ዓመት 🏵️