Extinction Rebellion
A whine of sirens, the yellow jackets of coppers, sinister drones overhead. Shane grips my elbow, dragging me through the push of bodies on Westminster Bridge. Stink of sweat, too-loud voices chanting: No more coal, no more oil, keep our carbon in the soil.
‘You wanted to come,’ he spits, ‘so start protesting.’
Riot shields glint. As I yank my arm out of his grasp, a girl with pink dreads wedges herself between us, dangling handcuffs.
‘I’m going for the lock, you with me, Shane?’
‘Yeah, chain me up, Pink.’
She knows him. And he’s grinning at her.
‘Clear the bridge,’ a distorted voice booms through the whinny of police horses.
‘Come on!’ I grab his elbow, but my fingers slide off the slippery fake leather. Pink has found Shane’s wrist. Her handcuff, with its metal claws, circles his bare skin.
A drumfire of hooves and I am running, alone.
Jac Cattaneo is a Swiss/South African writer and artist living in England. She has a PhD in Creative Writing and teaches at the Met Film School. Her short stories are published in several journals and anthologies. She has two novels in progress, and adores the challenge of writing flash fiction.
This story was shortlisted in the October 24 Monthly Micro Competition.