Dying Winter

Early spring. This morning the frost was biting my cheeks, but the sun was blinding. I was strolling on the streets of my town with my headphones on, listening to some lively remixes of Brazilian music - Red Hot & Rio (what else, lately...). A kid was carrying a pizza box on which was written: Old Times. "Alright," I said to myself, "pack them in a pizza box and throw them away. Make space for the new".

The town is filled with lovely snowdrops and March amulets for sale. It is amazing. Still, I mourn a lost white season...