What would Fitzroy be without the occasional street party? Life’s good, and it might not stay this way forever, and who knows what’s coming, but a day with fruit punch, a speech and some dancing makes everything seem okay.

Fitzroy’s mood seems to be lifting, as a little bit of hope seems to fill the air. Phone numbers are swapped, and the idea of a party starts to take shape. Could life be returning to normal? Could it really be possible?