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The holidays are lonely when you’re alone. When New Year’s Eve arrived, I joined the crowd gathered by the water for the fireworks. Bright pinwheels of pyrotechnics festooned the heavens, drawing oohs and aahs. Explosions cracked, boomed and rumbled. Cordite wisped on the breeze.
Then someone stood beside me. In a strobe-like flash from a glittery burst, I recognized the girl from Starbuck’s. We’d talked briefly a couple of times, friendly banter.
When the countdown hit zero, she turned to me and we kissed, her lips warm and soft. The fireworks inside me dwarfed the ones in the sky.