Elegantly Wasted

Tom was an alcoholic. First thing every morning he made himself an extremely dry martini: straight gin, but in a martini glass to feel classy. In the evening, he put on a tuxedo and drank champagne. Not sparkling wine. The French stuff.

Tom worked downtown. He took long lunches at the club and came back to the office smelling of mint and tangerine. He was a partner, so no one ever complained. Not to his face.

Tom considered himself a functioning alcoholic.

His ex-wife and her phalanx of lawyers considered Tom a threat to harm himself and those around him.

Perhaps

Derek's wedding day had arrived. As a child of divorce he desperately wanted to know that what he shared with Mandy was true love. So on the morning of his nuptials, he visited Solanaca, the neighborhood witch.

Solanaca was known for her ability to read the future and cast hexes. For 100 dollars, she offered a potion that would compel the imbiber to answer one question truthfully.

Derek gladly paid the cash. Superstition prevented him from seeing Mandy before the ceremony, so he waited until the reception to slip the potion into her champagne.

"Do you truly love me?"

"Perhaps."

Happy New Year

The wind is howling, and the snow is heavy. New Year’s Eve and Times Square are scarce with the host’s expression one of weariness.

No one is here to celebrate, the weather keeping them home and comfortable by the television, probably sipping hot coffee as I’m doing, or maybe drinking wine or champagne to ring in the coming year.

I have the fireplace lit, bringing more warmth to my cold apartment. My dog Gatsby sits beside me, and we’re snuggled under a blanket.

The countdown begins.

And as the host gets to one, the electricity goes out.

Happy New Year.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Positive

It’s New Year’s Eve and Chad is in quarantine. His Covid-19 test came back negative the first time and he’s waiting on the next one. He doesn’t feel sick and he’s confident the test will come back negative.

With champagne in hand and the ball getting ready to drop, his dog Buddy, cuddles by the warmth of the fireplace like any other night, unaware of a new year ahead.

He watches the lonely host at Times Square shivering from the cold as he counts down. The ball drops and Chad chugs his champagne.

The next afternoon Chad’s test is positive.

From Guest Contributor Lisa Scuderi-Burkimsher

Humbug New Year’s

On the television, the ball in Time’s Square dropped. “Happy New Year,” the crowd shouted. I gulped my wine, not a fan of champagne, and shut the TV. After all, I detested New Year’s Eve. It’s a lonely holiday for some, myself included, and I’d rather get drunk on wine in the comfort of my own home, warm by the fire.

Tired, I took off my robe, climbed into bed and turned off the lamp. I told myself, tomorrow would be just another day.

Instead of spending the first day of the new year relaxing, I typed my resignation letter.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

New Year's Resolutions

New Year’s Eve, a time to reflect on the past year, and Charles did just that. In the upcoming year he would eat healthy, and spend more time with his granddaughter. Julia with her dimpled cheeks would be a young woman soon and he didn’t want to miss another minute.

Times Square was filled with people, dressed in big coats and hats braving the cold. The countdown began, and the glittering ball started to drop.

“Happy New Year, Elise,” he said.

He drank his champagne and placed it next to his wife Elise’s photo, her glass full and bubbling untouched.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher