I Remember.

I remember.

I remember a New Year's long ago when the novelty of not going out wore off, and we decided to take our happy drunk selves out into the world. We found the table furthest from the street, in a decidedly low-rent bar that was bereft of any seasonal indicators. It was dark, and the small crowd was united in silent conspiracy, us against them. We drank tequila and schnapps.

I remember an unseasonably warm New Year's back in my youth. I was wearing a t-shirt under my favorite jacket which was thin unlined corduroy, so I was probably chilled to the bone. We carried beers in our pockets, and walked the suburban streets, surprised by others doing the same.

I remember Jim.

I remember Boo.

I remember Lupe.

I remember Alex.