From My Pocket
By Kathleen Tonn

The people are jostling about me as they hurry to Times Square for the ball drop. One even elbowed me in my ribs telling me I am walking to slow. I glanced over at the New Yorker, and I smiled at him. The man quickly moved past me when he saw my grin. Not him nor any other person can or will diminsh my mood.

I stuck my right hand in my coat pocket. It was safely nestled in the deepest corner of the pocket's lining, a small velvet box. Inside, a simple, white gold ring shining with a dainty diamond. I clasped the small box holding the promise of a love so sweet. Most people, the young man knows, hold jaded views on love. In fact, those he speaks to of a similar age laugh when I tell them the intention of the ring I bought at Macy's. They aren't purposely trying to be mean or snide. "Facts, look at the facts," one friend said. "I don't want you disappointed, but it's your life."

Yes, it is my life. There exists within me a...