She silenced her phone. It was the last day of the year, and she had already refused the invitations to socialize. No need to go through all the same posts and messages. Did people really feel the joy, or did they fake it for the sake of fitting into the crowd’s euphoria? She tried to remember how she was when she was young, when the preparations for New Year’s Eve were a thing. Was she really feeling the excitement, or was she just going with the flow, without deeper thought? How could you push yourself to feel cheerful on a day when maybe you didn’t want to?

She was a bit hungry, although she had eaten once during the day. Delivery was not an option at this time. She stared at a bottle of good French Cabernet, but had no desire to taste it. Tea it would be. The smell of Earl Grey de la Crème filled her nostrils with calm.

The highlight of the evening: a box of pralines. She brought it from her last trip, and had enough discipline to save it just for this occasion. Forty-two perfect balls of joy. And no one to disrupt it. Sharing is nice, but not when it comes to chocolate. 

The noise of the fireworks signaled the beginning of another year. She was reluctant to turn on the TV; there was nothing too engaging on her watchlist, and anyway, that would be there any other day. She wanted to do something different. She had already written down a small recap of the past year; not bad, but nothing monumental. A few forever-memories lingered in her constant sense of limbo.

There was a small ritual to write down twelve wishes for the next year. You write them with your heart in it, each on a separate piece of red paper, with clear intention. Then, starting the next day, you burn one each midnight and blow the ashes into the air to return them to the elements. After the fifth paper, she stopped. It felt impossible that she had no more wishes. But, she kept thinking, what was truly important? Good health, money (because this is a material world, and almost everything has a price tag), stability, peace of mind. These are the basis for everything else. Did you need more than that?

She didn’t want to write something that wasn’t meaningful, but her brain looped through her daily life, searching for points that needed major improvements. No, her life was not perfect, and she could still dream big, but somehow nothing stood out.

The pralines were packed each in its own wrapper. Fancy foil. She wondered if she could strip down her soul the same way she unwrapped them.

She decided to go for more mundane wishes, something fairly easy to achieve. That would increase the overall score and success rate.

Munching one praline after another, the sweet taste of chocolate, melting on her tongue, made each new wish more carnal, more earthy. This is totally worth the price, she thought; the top-quality ingredients mixed in perfect proportion, layers of pleasure, crunching into an instant serotonin boost. The smooth tea made it even better.

Suddenly, everything seemed within reach, doable. The bar could be high, and still, you could go for it.

The twelfth piece of paper.

Maybe she should go for something grand, totally off track, even outrageous. Why not? She would encourage others to always aim for the heights, so why wouldn’t she forget the rationale and dare to go wild? In the end, the paper could handle anything.

A piece of hazelnut went down the wrong way, and she began to choke. She tried to cough it out, losing breath with each attempt. Tears filled her eyes. She ran to get some water, and out of all things she could think of at that moment, she remembered a scene from some series she’d watched where a guy used the doorframe or narrow wall for back blows. Whether it was the tapping or the water, the hazelnut came out, and she gasped, inhaling as much air as her lungs could hold. She should have paid more attention to self-rescue techniques. 

When the sound of her heart calmed down, the house was silent again in its holiday atmosphere. Serene. This was a very hard-earned peace. She enjoyed it. It was not loneliness; it was curated solitude. But maybe it would be good to have someone around, just in case you choke on a hazelnut.

“I would even share the chocolate.”

She sat down to fill out the last paper. The pen easily slid, filling the empty red space.