The unfamiliar emptiness lingers along Marcie as she navigates her way through the snowy and icy streets of New York. Freshy widowed as her Christmas adoring husband had just passed and left this muddy earth colder for her. It was ten to midnight and she had journeyed her way through the chaotic streets of New York into the ball drop as millions of New Yorkers lingering with their loved ones to celebrate the coming of Christmas. Hot chocolate covered in whipped cream and drizzles of chocolate sauce shifting through the air along with the warm sensation of freshly baked christmas cookies being sold in a shop drifting out the door. Marcie views the multitude of couples embracing each other as they celebrate the coming of Christmas or the days off school or work. She reminisced about the plans she had with her husband, to have a Christmas wedding with a atmosphere alike to the current one with chunky snowflakes dancing down below the sky on top of the heads of the millions of people outside.
She had encountered a hot chocolate stand further away from the crowd as she took in the view as a snowglobe in her hand shaking and mixing the snow as it gently returned back into the ground. The warm hot chocolate enters her hand as she lets a gentle breeze through it before she tastes it still burning the tip of her tongue. Letting the warm drink create a whipped cream mustache on her as she looks at the colorful clock counting down the seconds before Christmas is here, as she closes her eyes taking in the jingling of the bells of Salvation Army Santa’s, the far honks of traffic of families arriving or departing for Christmas holidays. She opens her eyes, viewing the world in a new light, a forgiving one.