MayDay Flash - by Vanessa Cardui

The maypoles have gone.  The days are growing longer and sweeter as they always do; but this year there’s no coloured ribbons, no dancing on the green.  We used to get giddy drunk, and laugh and sing and fuck, on Mayday; and it was funny and harmless and joyful. Now they purse their lips and say watch and pray, the end will come like a thief in the night. This Mayday, in plain dark gowns and bonnets, we sit with clasped hands; and in a moment it’s my turn to stand up and bear witness, tell the congregation how the Lord saved me. As I get to my feet, all I can think of is how it used to feel, to have flowers in my hair.