The clock strikes midnight, and a princess flees from a party, a coach shifting into a pumpkin and horses morphing to mice.
The clock strikes midnight, the bell rings over England from the world's most famous Ben, drowned out by fireworks.
The clock strikes midnight, a boy kisses another boy for the first time in San Francisco, encouraged by friends, strangers, and a few drinks.
The clock strikes midnight, a non-binary individual sits alone in their apartment eating ice cream, regaining their energy as they watch the fireworks on their TV from their couch.
The clock strikes midnight, a woman pushes away the primal advance of a man who had a few too many drinks and thinks it's okay to be as short-tempered as her skirt.
The clock strikes midnight, thousands of people post on social media about their life and love, about how they will change their ways. Thousands of people love each other, and themselves.
The clock strikes midnight.
A boy is announced dead, twelve o'clock in the morning, January first.
Cause of death: loneliness. Tool used? A bridge, high above an empty highway.
Del enjoys poetry, long walks on the beach, and the aesthetic of a cup falling off of a table. Born in San Francisco, this Bay Area dork would love to travel but is instead stuck in the black hole that is the beautiful Silicon Valley. As an aspiring artist, she often screams into the all knowing void, but she warns not to look into it, for it looks back. She also likes reptiles.