095 New Year
Quietly sitting in an old armchair, Leatherhead absently watched his small television set. Large crowds filled the expanse of Time Square, huddled together in a frenzied, hysterical haze. The lights of the city shimmered and twinkled.
A cold draft tickled his skin, so he wrapped the blanket tighter around his massive shoulders. Last year, the turtles had introduced him to the festive celebration. The noise, laughter, and excitement they had exuded were contagious. Even Master Splinter stayed up to watch everything unfold.
But the turtles and their master still had not returned.
Five, four, three, two, one…
Happy New Year.