pink bottles and the carnival of spring

It is the day when kids buy balloons and the city streets are filled with the thunderous roar of vintage car engines.

People walk through town in white hats with trenchcoats and low-denier tights, fancy dress or wildly coloured student coveralls with beer stains on them.

Icecream stands and summer restaurants throw their doors open and the first outdoor barbecues are attempted despite treacherous weather.

Kids scream with happiness, old couples hold hands, students are delirious and drunk.

I elbow my way out of the crowds angrily. Why does nobody want to hold my hand today? I buy pink bottles and my undeserved loneliness is comforted by blessed solitude.