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The time is almost here.
On November 9, 2016, I lay awake in bed, tossing, turning, turning, tossing, trying to sleep and failing, barely managing to doze. Late at night, in the long, dark hours of morning. I was in bed, keeping my mind blank, when, and my hand to God, I heard a woman shout, "No!" out into the night.
I raised my head off the pillow, and heard a quieter, softer, "No," from her again.
So I lay my head down, knowing it was over.
On November 7, 2020, I was talking on the phone with a friend after lunch, chatting about fandom and afternoon plans, when I heard shouting coming from the streets. At first I thought it was the beginnings of a protest, but they kept coming. Then I heard cheering, as I looked up at the blue autumn sky out my window, and I started to wonder.
I checked the news, and they'd called it.
So I went out to cheer on the streets, knowing it'd just begun.
I raised my head off the pillow, and heard a quieter, softer, "No," from her again.
So I lay my head down, knowing it was over.
On November 7, 2020, I was talking on the phone with a friend after lunch, chatting about fandom and afternoon plans, when I heard shouting coming from the streets. At first I thought it was the beginnings of a protest, but they kept coming. Then I heard cheering, as I looked up at the blue autumn sky out my window, and I started to wonder.
I checked the news, and they'd called it.
So I went out to cheer on the streets, knowing it'd just begun.