The Day the Streets Shook
A Flash Fiction by Virginia Miranda
Clouds hung low in the sky, mirroring the heavy hearts of those gathering for the Moratorium. From Queensland University to Roma St Gardens, they would march in solidarity with their southern cohorts.
High in her George Street office, Hannah watched the first of the marchers cross Herschell Street, her heart thumping like a drum. This would be her first protest. Her brother Peter convinced her to join him.
‘It’s about standing up for what’s right,’ he said, eyes burning with an intensity she had come to know since his friend Ben, was conscripted. Ben now listed as missing in action.
Hannah took the lift to the ground floor. She crossed the road making her way to where Peter would be waiting.
Stories about police brutality and arrests ran circles in her mind. Then she noticed the faces of those in the crowd—mothers with small children, men and women arm-in-arm, old veterans with solemn eyes. They shared the same look of determination…to stand up for what mattered.
The ground vibrated with the energy of the crowd. Hannah pushed through the throng to Peter who was holding a sign, ‘Bring Our Boys Home.’
‘Glad you came,’ he said, pulling her into a fierce hug. His voice lost in the cacophony of chants.
‘I hope we don’t get into trouble.’
‘Trouble’s already here, Hannah. This is about making them see that.’
They walked towards the speaker’s platform. Ten thousand strong. Hannah’s fear slowly ebbed, replaced by a growing sense of purpose. She chanted alongside the others, her voice gaining strength with each repetition. “Stop the war! Bring them home! Stop the war! Bring them home!”
A hush fell upon the crowd as a young woman took to the platform. Her voice trembling but resolute, she told of her brother who was killed in action. Tears streamed down her face. ‘He was just a boy,’ she cried. “He didn’t belong there. None of them do.’
The crowd erupted. Hannah felt a lump in her throat. She glanced at Peter, and knew he was thinking of Ben.
Suddenly, a shout went up from the edge of the crowd. Hannah turned to see men attempting to remove the next speaker. Panic rippled through the protesters. Some backed away, others stood their ground, linking arms in defiance. Peter grabbed her hand.
‘Stay with me,’ he said. ‘These men are labour and communist thugs.’
The heavies shoved protesters aside, intimidation and fear their intention. Peter held to Hannah, his grip a lifeline.
Then, it was over. The police stepping in…though now the spell was broken. The protesters began to disperse, their chants fading into the distance. Hannah and Peter stood in stunned silence, the reality of what just happened, sinking in.
She said goodbye and made her way back to the office. But something had changed. Her initial fear replaced with determination. She had seen the power of people united, standing up against injustice.
‘Next time,’ she said, ‘we’ll bring more people.’
Author: Story writing has been part of Virginia’s life since High School. Publishing her first story in 1966. For Virginia, writing is about the words, how they come together, what message they send. She has self-published three books of Flash Fiction and is currently working on a collection of Short Stories.