New Year
by XXXX
It was New Year's Day. My cousin and I were having coffee. It was about ten at night. We were outside the establishment. She said: "Sometimes I think you're not happy. I see it in you."
There were people smoking in front of us by the door and the smoke smelled like fruit, for some reason.
"You're right," I said. "I'm not happy."
"Why?" she said.
"There's nothing in my life to be happy about," I said. "And there's a lot of reasons for me to not be."
We were beside a curb. I watched the cars' headlights rush toward us and swerve to the left at the last moment. I imagined us getting hit, and dying while looking at the stars.
"I really hope you finally find happiness," she said.
"Thanks," I said. "I do, too."
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I thought the narrator would be happy because the car didn't kill him or her. But it didn't. That was a nice dramatic touch. As to happiness... Why should we all be happy? There's too much happiness and pursuit of it. It seems like other cultures get this better than we do. Every seen a happy Frenchman? Me neither.
It finds you.
It finds you.