The scales of the sleeping snake that is the street below, form from the glittering of paving; wet from earlier showers. A passing taxi bringing life to the serpent, forming a head maybe, as he shuttles along, kicking up water from the snake's back, letting it fall in his wake.
Perched up on the ledge of the building beside the serpentine street, while the echoes of the fireworks reverberated, maybe not through the damp air that seemed to hang over the evening, watching, but through the people for whom the burst of light were also bursts of hope for the coming year. I watched the lying serpent wake and sleep with passing cars over and over, as my boyfriend held me, not trusting me so close to the edge. New Year's Eve 2012...
I hadn't realised that in Mexico, New Year's Eve is more of a family affair, despite the warnings of my boyfriend. The idea just seemed so foreign to me, that subconsciously I'd instantly rejected it. The quietness of the streets was eerie, and the intermittent rain and the heavy clouds above, waiting impatiently to dump their heavy loads on whoever happened to pass below, ominous. But the distant fireworks seemed to be trying desperately, yet weakly, to offer promises for the new year. It's yet to be seen if those far-off sparks of hope will last out 2013.
