It’s very nearly 2017 – literally if you live close to the International date line so a little #flashfiction to celebrate.
2017 peeked out.
“Woah, dude! So many people!” He turned back. 2016 was adjusting his clothes.
“Hey man, is that going to happen to me? Am I going to end up looking that fat?”
“Not if you are lucky, young man. Big events certainly do add some weight to the year, but I must admit that most of this bulk is body armour”.
“Yes. Traditionally the old year is chased off. Mostly it is quite good humoured and people use pretend snowballs. I had thought climate change might mean there was actually some snow at New Year this time, but sadly no. Instead I’m expecting rocks. This year has been very tough, and I think that people will be glad to see the back of me. Oh well. So it goes.”
“But that is so unfair! It’s not like we have any control over what happpens!”
“I hope your tenure is much happier than mine – good luck.”
2016 adjusted his clothes one last time, and strode out.