The Millennium Party.

The celebrations were great and we all had lots of fun. But now, the party's over - the clearing up has to be done. The living room's a mess with… pieces of shattered balloon skins strewn about, smelly empty bottles of lager and stout, bunches of colourful streamers covering the floor, discarded silver millennium hats squashed behind the door, millennium balloons filled with helium not released yet, and empty party poppers littering the hidden carpet. Their content hangs down from the ceiling decorations. These all helped to create the jollity of our millennium celebrations. Yes, the room's a mess with… uneaten food lurking round the table legs and settee, some shattered empty nut shells now hurting my feet, you see, many sweet wrappers hiding under chairs, more bunches of streamers halfway up the stairs, an untidy collection of novel millennium cards on top of the TV, the fallen spiky needles from the knocked Christmas tree, a heap of wooden blocks from a collapsed Jenga tower, and the poem, 'The Millennium, 2000, Y2K or whatever' printed on A3 sheets but now creased and lying on the settee from the conclusion of 'Old Year's Night' or 'New Year's Eve' party. The kitchen's not much better with… a multitude of large and small, full and empty bottles and cans without any sign of pots and pans, 'artistically' covering the work surface, like the New York skyline in the cool evening sunshine. Congregating by the sink, there are lines of dirty glasses, like shattered icicles, of various shapes and sizes. Finally, by the overflowing kitchen bin and prompting me to give a reminiscent grin, there lie the obsolete millennium plates and the odd millennium hat, millennium trumpets and millennium this and that. So the celebrations were great and we all had lots of fun. But now, the party's over - the clearing up has to be done. Written January 17th, 2000 © on Dec 28 2001 08:04 AM PST   18 • 0 • 14