The engine is purring, I rub my hands together for warmth.
A few fireworks misfire off in the distance. It is still 7 minutes until the clock strikes. Snow has fallen and lays crisp beneath my booted feet. A sigh passes across my breath.
The countdown begins.
Somewhere, someone is laughing with their lover.
Somewhere, a child is up past their bed time.
Somewhere else, an old man gazes at an old photograph.
Here I stand, on the edge of this cliff, stamping out the last traces of light which linger on my cigarette.