silent night

It’s New Year’s Eve and my neighborhood is so quiet that I can hear the grandmother three houses up the mountain talking to her grandchildren. I stuck my head out of my window to see if I could catch the echo of any bells from the nearby temples ringing out the last 108 human vices of the year, but it seems that everyone has left for the bigger shrines and temples downtown. I don’t envy them the lines and crowds, but I do wish a few fish-on-a-stick vendors would wander up this way.