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Mary Kate wished for a dolly.

Straw hair and painted on smile, curve of plastic hips and long legs that bend to pressure. Pinafore dress and welded shoes, fingerless hands and oversized necklace. Glassy eyes roll back if tipped.

Mary Kate wished for a dolly.

Don wished for marbles.

Crouched on concrete, red imprint on knees through thin grey cotton. Sweaty fingers carry precious cargo, flick and release. Roll and bump across an imperfect surface, colours flicker and capture sunlight, sparkle and fly and collide, glass upon glass. Then a shout, angry, and feet scatter, colours swept up by a large hand and thrust deep into ink stained pocket. The giant ends the game, returns to the classroom to brood over lost hopes. The players linger, mutter ineffectual curses. Held back by fear.

Don wished for marbles.

Sally wished for a schools house.

Childhood dreams and childhood ideals, laid out on display. Wooden pegs sit at wooden desks, pencil lines watch blackboard - real chalk - though blank, empty. Words demanded, instruction. Fingers to move them, to grant life. Oversized teacher peg, flat hair and scrawled glasses, wobbles at the head of the class, silent lessons and wordless reproaches. Control through presence, demands respect.

Sally wished for a schools house.

David wished for a pony.

Nose pressed up against cold glass, warm breath steaming clouds. Mother leans over the pushchair and points to the store window, Santa, elves, lights, teddy bears, train sets, and above them all, a pony. Dark mane and deep eyes, noble, silent, feet fixed to a wooden stand alien in its lack of motion.

David wished for a pony.

Four children of the City, given birth. Hopes and wishes and dreams call out, become swamped by others. Mauling, mewing, the City breathes and screams.

Mary Kate wishes for love.

Nose pressed up against cold glass, breath barely forming on her reflection. Step back, consider the skeleton. Skin hanging loose, deep caverns where cheeks should be, hollow eyes, thin lips, papery skin. Breasts sagging and empty, hands frail. Cough and break a rib thin.

Mary Kate wishes for love.

Don wishes for peace.

Sits in his car as the school bell rings, twitching. Radio blur mumbles old tunes and empty lyrics. Outside red gates open and he sees polished shoes against the pavement. Forward, linger, stumble, forward. Pulled by parental forces. Bare legs, neat white socks and the flurry of skirts. Pleated shadows. Cotton shirts come adrift, undone edges, tucked back by fingers. Naked faces and smiles. His palms sweat and he rubs damp patches across his trousers.

Don wishes for peace.

Sally wishes for silence.

Three voices raised over hers; one angry, one petulant, one in distress. Eagerness grabs at forbidden sweets, are not slapped away. Others, tiny, raise up and claw at air, mouth open and howling. inconsolable. Tormented, the hands rip at her, she struggles to find the love she has been told of but comes up empty. Acts on autopilot, boiling potatoes, chopping vegetables, ironing clothes, washing stains, turning taps, lifting shirts over heads, pushing down the faces beneath the water from where they can no longer scream.

Sally wishes for silence.

David wishes for acceptance.

Sits beside him on the train, imagines resting his head on that shoulder, on drinking in the smell. Sees lovers across the way, cuddled up as one, sharing warmth. Is drawn to copy, pushes fingers into fingers only for them to draw back. Not now, not ever. Late night drunken groping, caught up in the moment, heavy clawing and deep kisses. Then cat calls on the street and fists against flesh. Blood and sweat and love on the pavement, to the howl of night sirens and blue neon.

David wishes for acceptance.

Walk the streets, pass by, ghosts. Single worlds, bubbles, impenetrable. Fairy lights and frosty air, black sky above buildings, above towering green trees decked out with gold. Crowds jostle and push before night end, caught up in thoughts. The city hears wishes and dreams and breath clouds at windows, sleep gives them life and the sleepers voyage amongst hopes and childhood wishes.

Mary Kate lies with carpet against her back, against bones so brittle they have broken against coughs. Glassy eyes stare up from sunken hollows as she sees herself, princess at the ball, no gasping breath and dulled vision. Technicolor. Cinderella, skull smiling, grotesque, happy. Chest rises then falls. Last time.

Don sits across from glaring screen, slumped over naked belly, ample and protruding. Wine, red, spills across keyboard, stains letters and fuses electrics. Flutters of white and grey watch him, skin in pixels, frozen expressions, act out pleasure and pain. Glare of glass and young eyes reflect his own, death and emptiness held in each other. Innocence stolen by years.

Sally sits in the bathroom, waiting. Back pressed against cold tiles. Hands drip water onto the rug. Water ripples, then stills. The house, silent. Sally sits in the bathroom, catatonic.

David stares up at ceiling, unfamiliar, hears muffled voices and scream of traffic. Night sirens surround him, enclose him, pin him to the cot he lies upon. Catches glimpse of bag above him, trailing wires, flicker of light dancing across monitors. Glimpses of streets outside, of trailing decorations, of gurning Santas, of blurred faces. Partygoers. Then fingers in his fingers, hand on his cheek, lips on his skin. Dark eyes and tears and whispered promises unheard. Distorted by bruises, he smiles.

Outside clocks finish chiming and party poppers are pulled. Streamers litter the streets, the City pulls out its emperors clothes, looks shiny and new in the dawn of a Millennium. Drinks are finished, hugs given, love made. No sleep for tonight, the City births new life and cradles the dreams of the old. Hopes and Christmas wishes unfulfilled, breath clouds on windows and wistful imaginings. Held over for another year, for the next day, the City keeps them safe.