Out With the Old…

This is one that I kind-a just came up with on my own. No writing prompt really. No exercise in a book. I was reading about New Years traditions in other cultures and well… thought it might be fun to write something inspired by one of them. While illegal now, in Johannesburg, South Africa people used to stock pile old furniture and throw it out of tall buildings on New Years – symbolizing the whole casting away old problems and getting a fresh start.

Jane had already hauled her soon-to-be ex-husband’s 42 inch flat screen up the stairs of her apartment building when she thought that maybe this wasn’t the best of ideas.

It was New Year’s Eve and for the last ten years, Jane and Paul had gone to his sister’s house for the big Family Holiday. This year though, Paul would be taking Skank he’d left her for, and Jane was left alone. Well, not totally alone. There had been wine and the TV.

The divorce wasn’t even finalized yet, his stuff was still in their – no – HER apartment, and he was already ushering the new girl into the family. It was a dick move. But – it seemed like most of the things he’d done over the last four months or so had been dick moves. He’d known when they were dating that Jane didn’t want to have kids. He’d asked her to marry him, knowing she didn’t want kids. They’d been happily married for seven years with him knowing that she didn’t want kids. But now – he suddenly wanted them.

The cold air hit her wine flushed cheeks as she kicked open the roof door. Really. It should’ve been locked.

There’d she’d been. Drinking alone – because yes, he got the family AND friends in the almost divorce. That had been a bit shocking to Jane, but true colors had been shown and she was better for it. She’d been channel surfing – trying to find something to watch that wouldn’t depress her – when she came across a segment on how different places rang in the New Year. In Denmark that smashed plates, in Japan bells are rung, and then… that was it.

Jane peered over the side of the roof into the ally below. It was a lot further down than she’d thought. Jane bit the inside of her cheek and looked over her shoulder at the TV. She’d bought it for him as an anniversary gift – only months before he’d admitted to the affair and told her he wanted a family and that didn’t include her anymore. Not for the first time, Jane briefly wondered if the Skank was knocked-up.

With her mind made up, Jane dragged the TV to the ledge of the roof. In a moment of total and complete liberation, she pushed it off and watched it fall in slow motion before it crashed on the concrete below.

A mixture between a laugh and a scream exploded out of Jane and, if she was being honest, she felt great.

Fireworks and shrieks a few streets over let Jane know that it was midnight. She looked up at the sky stretching out for infinity over her and knew – this would be her year. She would MAKE it hers.

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