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She’d promised to be at the party by 8 pm. Emma sighed, knowing that it would be a rush despite her best intentions. Her thumb hovered over the message app on her phone. She could send a text, letting Shaun know she was running late. Again.

But instead, she opened the ‘My Year’ app. It had been front and centre on her home screen for 364 days, a constant visual reminder of how 2024 was going to be different, of how she would change and finally be the best version of herself. Or something like that.

Personal Growth was the first section. Emma tapped the tiara icon and scanned the list. She’d made some headway, but two items glowed an angry red — punctuality and integrity. Battling her habit of procrastination had taken more time and effort than she’d expected. Was that what she was doing now, distracting herself with this rather than getting ready and arriving on time? It drove Shaun crazy when she was late, and lying to him about it made her commitment to integrity laughable.

Emma put the phone aside, finished her makeup and skipped out the door. The tram was heaving with people already buzzed and excited about the biggest night of the year. Emma flicked open the app, feeling a little smug at making progress on integrity and punctuality. What was left on the list?

Compassion. Emma chewed her lip. Surely being civil to friends and family who sometimes drove her nuts with their messy lives and relationships counted for something? And she’d thought about doing some volunteer work. It hadn’t happened, but was near enough good enough?

Caught up in the human tide of people disembarking the tram, Emma noticed a woman with a one-eyed, scruffy dog. The folded towel they were sitting on had once been brightly coloured, but was now a shabby grey. A battered tin bowl held a few silver coins. The woman’s face was downcast, her eyes in line with the well-shod feet of strangers who didn’t acknowledge her existence.

Emma swept past, then stopped, causing some protests and mild shoving as the swell of people moved around her. She turned, pushing back through the crowd, then bent down to the woman’s level. She found her emergency $50 note and folded it into her hand before holding it out discretely to the woman. The woman looked up, startled and wary. Emma was stunned to realise that they were of a similar age.

‘May next year be a better one for you, and your dog.’

Emma smiled as their eyes met for a heartbeat, before the woman looked away. She glanced back at Emma, nodded once, then palmed the money before casting her gaze back to the ground.

Emma walked on, a sense of optimism filling her as she ticked off the last item on her resolution list.

This was written to a prompt at my local writing group: Someone scrambling on NYE to fulfil their resolutions for the year before the clock strikes 12.

Photo: 2023 diary