My writer's group homework Gail (Thain) :

As we are now on the cusp of the Christmas past and the fast approaching New Year of 2022 , it seems to be a good time to journal our Hopes & Fears or  Fears & Hopes for the New Year. These can  be positive &/or negative feelings. After such a turbulent, world wide time in history, I’m sure we have a myriad of thoughts as to what 2022 will or will not bring. 

My thoughts about New Year.                                           Viktorina Savelieva. January 2022

New Year! I wanted to journal my Hopes & Fears as directed but, but…

These words just stir up all my senses at the very moment, when “Happy New Year!” is said. All of them are trying to jump out of my mind,  but they are very difficult to be described. "A spoken thought is a lie". This is what the great Russian poet Tyutchev said. I am trying to put some order in this mess, but not able to describe very much.

The glasses clink, champagne gurgle, the sound of the Kremlin's Spasskaya Tower chimes, the noise of Time Square ...

I can smell the orchestra of traditional snacks. The very recollection of them makes me to salivate profusely.

 I feel the dancing with me partner gentle touch...

Pictures, pictures ... There are so many of them! I see them, I am there now! The moment of 12 in the the New Year morning is like a kind of transition from one reality to another. And <To be - or not to be ...>

I cannot deny myself the pleasure of just listing them.

  I see Santa Claus at the door with gifts, and I cannot understand why he speaks in the voice of my brother.

 I am flying on a sled from the hill, and I hear my mother's voice: "Happy New Year!"

After a stormy student New Year Eve party, we crawl on the floor and tear out confetti trampled into the parquet. 

I dance a waltz and see loving eyes.

We cannot go to the New Year party because our three-year-old son is sick; and the company of twenty people is coming over to our place.

We are in a train carriage taking us to the Caucasus for skiing downhill. Everyone in the carriage shouts: "Happy New Year!" and drink what they have.

We are in the Caucasus again. <Happy New Year!> sounds in a cafe on the bank of a mountain river.

I am happy and pregnant. It just sounded: "Happy New Year!", and a small mouse came to the table. I convinced my husband to let her out the door.

Surgut, West Siberia, we live in a railway carriage, used as a temporary shelter.  “Happy New, 1981 year!” Alcohol is forbidden, and we drink <samogon>, homemade vodka.

“Happy New, 1992, year!” Cheers! We do not know yet that sweet words “Freedom” and “Perestroika” will turn soon into a big chaos.

“Happy New, 1995 year!” We are telling these words on a farewell party before leaving to New Life in Canada.