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The Motion
They are wandering everywhere and you act as if you don’t care; they are wandering everywhere and you are walking around clapping your hands and stomping your feet and dragging your body on the cold concrete. Force will not do it, confrontation cannot solve it, conscious debate will bring them closer to the gate.
I saw them camping on the ground in little tents as if they don’t have a place to lay their head; what is the debacle about that causes the people to run and shout. See them chanting in the streets with big flags hoisted in the skies; they are strolling around the town like a depleted army that is homeward bound. The mission is still not clear and a multitude of them are camping out over there.
The sun rises to the sound of bleating sheep parading up and down the campus ground and they lie quietly under their little tent too timid to crawl out, while the eyes of evil watches and waits patiently across the street for the chance to make a move. Morning yawn with its mouth open wide and the sweltering heat burns their hands and sleepy eyes began to merge from underneath the tents.
Fresh baked bread and cookies piled up in trays perfumed the air with its sizzling smell and the people’s appetite enlarged, and they descend in the bakery and start handing out bread, cookies and coffee to the hungry crowd the and the morning scuffle begin.
Someone must have paid for it, the shopkeeper start smiling and knelt down suddenly to pray; he thanked the people for making his day and urged the workers to serve more cookies and coffee to the hungry crowd.
I tried to hang on to the morning rhythm, so I stood in the corner of the street watching the traffic moving slowly down the hill and all of a sudden, the skies above me starts smiling and my heart compose a wonderful hymn and my spirit start to sing.
A sudden temperature engulfs the street and the marching band appears and the morning breaks out with shout and the people start running about looking for a safe place to go.
Officers in striped uniform descend on the corner; more than a hundred of them jump off the trucks and enter the parking lot and start ripping and pulling up everything from the ground and throw them in the back of the truck and the struggles begin.
Morning breaks loose, screams and shouts echoes through the air and emergency vehicles sweeps through the street and try to break up the scuffle between civilians and officers and the tension grew larger and my heart began to fear.
Just as I thought of it, I observe a strange movement underneath the tent from a distance. The scuffle turned out into a brawl and the officer shot the young man dead in his tent, blood run across the street and anger starts spreading the heat and set fire to the street and they read the motion and continue with the disruption .
Copyright ©
Christine Phillips
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