A Poem by Victoria Pearson
They said the riots were the start, but they were wrong.
It started with the whispers. A susurrus of discontent, at the school gates, in the allotments, in the streets.
They met in libraries and parks, made plans to protect the vulnerable, and keep every belly fed. They planted seeds of hope and potatoes of defiance.
No longer supported by the system, they supported each other. They locked together like a shield wall, so when the time came to strike, they were unbreakable.
The cry rang through the streets; "No Gods, No Masters, We Aren't Sheep To Be Led"
They said the riots were the start, but they were wrong.
It started with solidarity. ■
Victoria Pearson lives behind a keyboard somewhere in darkest Toryshire with her husband, her four children, and her dog. She writes very strange stories.
You can read them on her website or watch her talking complete nonsense in real time on Twitter.
Marijam Didžgalvytė (Marijam Did) has a book coming out in Autumn called Everything to Play For, How Videogames are Changing the World (EPF). I was one of the lucky few to be given an advance copy. My deadline for getting my notes into shape was extremely tight but I found the book an engaging read, […]
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